


Right Hand Slugger

by theinvisibledisaster



Series: It Comes and Goes in Waves [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Badass Clarke, Bellarke, Bellarke POV, Bellarke Secret Relationship, Established Relationship, Interns & Internships, Multi, Protective Bellamy Blake, Shaw POV, Zaven Meet-cute, i promise it makes sense in the context of the fic, s6 shaw??? i don't know her, set fiv(ish) years after the end of IDNYL, trust me there's cute zaven and cute bellarke, wow i feel like i've waited a hundred years to type those words in that order, zeke being smitten with raven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2019-09-14 22:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisibledisaster/pseuds/theinvisibledisaster
Summary: Set nearly five years after the end of I Don't Need Your Love (I Just Need You Now), with The Griffin Agency a well-establishing law firm/PI agency, and Clarke renowned as a brilliant lawyer throughout Polis.For the third year in a row, they're hiring ten interns in order to whittle them down to two people to hire by the end of two weeks. AND for the third year in a row, they're vetting them in a... slightly unique way.When Shaw arrives, he doesn't expect the atmosphere to be as casual as it is, and he certainly doesn't expect to be completely bowled over by someone as intelligent and beautiful as Raven Reyes working there. He also isn't expecting one of his bosses to be constantly hitting on the other one, despite her clear disinterest, and he decides to put a stop to it.





	1. May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favour

**Author's Note:**

> I................ have no idea if this makes sense as a concept, but I got the idea in my head and it was so fun and silly that I couldn't stop myself. 
> 
> It's a joint Zaven/Bellarke fic, and the title comes from a Dean Lewis song, continuing my theme of using him to title every fic in this series. The song is Adore (which is actually an Amy Shark song that he covered, don't @ me) and the actual lyric is, "I'm known as a right hand slugger, anybody else wanna touch my lover?" which is, uhhhhhh, AWESOME. Also the song is awesome and Dean's cover is incredible.
> 
> I hope you like it!!!

Shaw wasn’t expecting his first day at The Griffin Agency to be as… casual as it was. 

When he’d applied for the job, he didn’t even think he would get accepted – a brilliant law-firm turned private investigative agency offering legal-council accepting a nearly thirty-year-old guy with an online degree and a motorbike – it didn’t exactly scream realistic. He really only applied in the first place because even a rejection letter from The Griffin Agency would be enough to get him interviews with smaller firms. 

But they let him in. 

_Kind of._

It was a paid internship, with nine other people. It was two weeks of working alongside and getting to know those people, knowing that by the end, only two of them would be left to actually take positions at the company. It was an interesting concept, darkly reminiscent of the Hunger Games, which is why he was taken aback when he walked into the building on his first day and came face to face with lots of streamers and a table full of junk food. 

“Congratulations on being the first to arrive!” A gangly man with goggles on his head (he worked in an office, why was he wearing goggles?) yelled out, popping a party popper and playing loud music from a speaker, something that sounded like _“You’re the Best Around”_ and Shaw suddenly found himself wanting to watch The Karate Kid.

“That’s already one point in your favour,” the man next to him smiled warmly, his arm around a blonde woman. 

“Uh, hi, I’m Zeke Shaw,” he said, offering his hand.

“I’m Monty,” the smiling man said, “This is my fiancé Harper, the guy in the corner trying to look cool is Murphy, and that idiot is Jasper.”

“Monty’s best friend and the only thing holding this whole place together,” Jasper puffed his chest up. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” a voice sailed down from the second floor, and he looked up to find a woman with short blonde hair leaning over the railing, and he knew he was in the right place. 

“Clarke Griffin,” he said, as if she didn’t know her own name, and internally kicked himself, “Thank you so much for the opportunity, I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it. You prefer Zeke?”

It took him a moment to realise what she was talking about, and then he remembered that his name as written on all his legal documents was Miles Ezekiel Shaw. He’d been going by ‘Zeke’ or just ‘Shaw’ for so long that he forgot sometimes. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine. Most people just call me Shaw,” he smiled nervously and she beamed back. 

“Excellent.”

The door swung open dramatically behind him and three cheery people walked through, stopping mid-laugh in surprise when Jasper threw streamers at them.

“Welcome to the Hellmouth, freshmen!” He sung out, and Shaw hid his smile in a cough. 

They continued just standing there, slack-jawed with surprise, until the door swung open again and two more men strode through, sporting sleazy grins. 

Shaw disliked them both immediately. The taller one carried himself like he thought he was too good to be there, and the other one had greasy hair and a menacing glare that he was directing at everyone individually. He didn’t like the way the greasy one was looking at Clarke, or the other two women for that matter, but he tried to push his misgivings down. Shaw was trying to work on snap-judgements, and deciding a guy was bad news before he’d even opened his mouth wasn’t exactly a positive step forward.

“Did we walk into a kid’s party?” The taller one asked. 

Jasper pouted, put out, “You walked into the wrong building, with an attitude like that.”

Monty put a reassuring hand on his arm, but he still looked annoyed, so Shaw walked over and threw a potato chip up and into his mouth, “I think it’s great.”

He shared a grin with Jasper and it seemed instantly decided that they were going to be friends, or at least, that was the impression he got when Jasper draped an arm around his shoulder and said, “You’re already my favourite.”

Clarke snorted as she descended the stairs and leaned against the party table. She pointed at each of them as she confirmed their names, “Macallan, Roma and Riley, welcome to Griffin Corp.”

The three of them smiled and nodded, moving towards the table to get some food. 

“And Dax and McCreary, lovely to have you here,” Clarke said, sounding like she actually meant it. Shaw suppressed a sigh; he supposed she did hire them – it didn’t matter if they gave him a squirrelly feeling, it mattered if they gave Clarke one. So far she seemed perfectly pleasant, so he guessed she liked them, or maybe she was just an exceptional actress. 

Next through the door was a striking woman who introduced herself as Anya, followed by Zoe (who preferred Monroe, which he empathised with), a shy girl called Gaia, and finally a stoic woman named Kara Cooper. Shaw wondered idly if the fifty-fifty split of men to women was intentional. 

“Not fifty-fifty, but we have made more of an effort to make it even this year. Last year we accidentally only had one guy and nine women,” Monty explained, and he realised that he must have uttered his question aloud. 

“Not my fault,” Clarke grumbled, “Loads of women applied, and their resumes were the best.”

“I’m not saying it was a bad thing,” Monty raised his hands defensively and she poked him with her plastic fork.

“So is that all ten or are we still waiting on someone?” Jasper asked.

“Everyone’s here,” Harper said. Then, slyly, “Except you-know-who.”

Clarke rolled her eyes, “Well in that case, we can start orientation. If that _ass_ hasn’t dragged himself out of bed yet, he’s only got himself to blame.”

“What was that you said about my ass, Clarke?” A shaggy haired man rounded the corner, dark scruff around his jaw, a grin plastered on his face. Clarke only rolled her eyes again, this time in his direction.

“Managed to tear yourself away from the mirror long enough to get to work today, I see,” she offered in response, and his smile only widened.

“It’s not my fault I’m so beautiful Clarke,” he winked at her and she looked down at her folded arms, trying to hide the irritated flush creeping up her neck. 

“What are you in such a good mood for? You’re late,” she grumbled to the floor. 

“My wife told me the bet’s back on,” he leaned against the wall closest to her and her head shot up, a mischievous gleam in her eye. 

“Did she now?” She asked.

“Yep, and this year I intend to win,” he grinned. 

“Unlikely dude, she wiped the floor with you last year,” Jasper pointed out. 

“And the year before,” Monty said, wincing when an irritated glare was shot his way.

He rolled his eyes, “Whatever you two, I’m winning this year.”

“If the bet is on, as of now, the pool BEGINS!” Jasper announced, like a ringleader in a circus, holding his phone high, “I’m texting Raven _immediately.”_

“Sorry to interrupt but what’s going on?” Shaw asked, his hand raised next to his cheek as he spoke. 

The man glanced over, tilting his head in acknowledgement, “Sorry, we get a bit intense about the bet. I’m Bellamy Blake, I run the ‘investigations’ part of this organization, while Griffin over there handles the law side of things. I also co-own a garage and repair cars in my spare time, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“You don’t have to mention that every year Bellamy; you’re very manly, we all get it,” Murphy stepped out of the corner, making some of the interns jump, and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“But how will the interns know who can help them if they break down?” Bellamy's tone was serious, but his lips were tweaking in a failed attempt to hide his amusement.

“They can call a tow-truck,” he sniped. 

“Or they can call me and I’ll be right there,” he fired back. 

“You really do have an incessant need to just be helping everyone all the time, don’t you?” Clarke asked, sounding simultaneously irritated and a little fond, and he shrugged.

“Not my fault people flock to me, maybe you should try being a little nicer, Pr- Wanheda.”

A dark silence fell over the room as Clarke drew herself up to her full height and glared daggers at Bellamy. To his credit, he looked a little sheepish. Monty, Harper and Jasper were all quietly wincing as they waited for Clarke to chew Bellamy out, but Murphy was grinning from ear to ear, reaching for a bowl of popcorn on the table.

“What did you call me?” She asked menacingly. 

He ran a hand through his hair, “Shit, sorry, I forgot.”

“You don’t like being called that?” Macallan asked, confused, and her attention flicked to him for a moment, before it ended up back on Bellamy. 

She frowned, “No, I don’t. And Bellamy has known me long enough to know that.”

“But it’s what all the papers call you, and it was your nickname at your old firm, right?” Monroe asked, and Clarke turned to look at her warily. Monroe flushed, brushing her hair back from her face self-consciously, clearly not used to being noticed.

Clarke took pity on her, shrugging, “Yeah, but that’s exactly why I hate it so much. It wasn’t exactly a _nice_ nickname at my old firm, and when the papers started using it… it just became a reminder of the worst part of my life.”

“Worst?” Kara asked incredulously, “You took down the entire Wallace family with one case; it was what made most of us want to come and work for you in the first place!”

“It was like the take-down of Al Capone – we all knew they were criminals, but you got them through their own – it was amazing!” Riley added.

Clarke shrugged, looking self-conscious. 

“And yet you still can’t finish a crossword,” Bellamy quipped, patting her congenially on the shoulder. She elbowed him. 

“Fuck off, Blake.”

“Make me,” he leaned a little closer and she shifted further away. 

“You’re infuriating,” she hissed. 

“That’s hurtful, Clarke,” he pouted at her and she glared right back, arms crossed in front of herself as if to prevent her from punching him. Neither of them seemed to realise the silence that had fallen over the office, until Jasper cleared his throat, smirking, and they snapped out of it. Clarke looked embarrassed, but Bellamy was back to grinning from ear to ear.

You two are… business partners? But…” Roma looked confused. 

“But they hate each other?” Monty finished for her, “No, they’re just, uhm, abrasive with each other.”

“No kidding.” Shaw deadpanned, prompting a collective snort from the group. 

Harper pulled at the hair by her shoulder absentmindedly, “They like each other really, they just have a habit of taking their frustrations out on each other. We used to interfere, but it actually seems like it helps the office – anger’s a good motivator.”

“So if you can’t put up with these two sniping at each other, this is probably not the job for you,” Monty threw the option out there, but Shaw didn’t expect anyone to take it. He was right, nobody moved. 

“Excellent,” Bellamy said, “So which of you were interested in the investigating?”

Shaw, Roma, Zoe, Anya and McCreary stepped forward. 

“So the rest of you are here for the lawyer position?” At their tentative nods, Harper frowned jokingly over at Clarke, “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

Clarke only smiled, “Don’t worry if you end up liking both, that’s perfectly alright. I know that you five have law degrees, which is good, but if any of you–” Clarke gestured at the others, “wanted to try out my side of things, that’s perfectly alright. Likewise for the law degree holders who wanted to look into investigating cases. We don’t discriminate here, for any reason, and we don’t discourage people asking for help, nor do you have to pick a side.”

“You _would_ say that,” Bellamy waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively and she bristled.

“Fuck you.”

“Stop swearing in front of the interns, you’ll scare them off,” he said lightly, “Now, newbies, who knows how to frame a man for murder?”

“Bellamy!” She snapped, “That joke wasn’t funny last year either.”

“Who says I’m joking?”

“Don’t start with me.”

“I’m not starting anything, Clarke,” he smirked. 

“You’re on thin fucking ice,” she uncrossed her arms and he snorted. She slid a hand in her pocket, feigning a casual demeanour, “Lucky I’m a… what did you call me? Ice Queen?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but his phone was ringing. He checked it, grumbling something that sounded a lot like, _“Goddamn wife,”_ before he ducked out of the room to take the call. 

“Anyway,” Clarke refocussed, gazing over the confused faces before her, and sighed. “Okay, look, we come off quite casual here, and in a way, we are. I started this business with my friends–” 

“-and Bellamy,” Jasper interjected. She glared at him, but there was no heat in it, and he only gazed back in amusement. 

“–and for the most part, we’re friendly. We’ve been doing this for five years, and initially the business was run by me and the other woman who took down the Wallaces, Charmaine Diyoza. After the Wallace case, we got a lot of business for a few years, and eventually Diyoza realised she likes politics more than investigating, and she’d trained Bellamy enough by that point that he could easily run that half of things without her. So I made Bellamy head of investigations and we’ve been a joint business ever since. Diyoza still has an equal share in this business, and works as liaison between us and the mayor’s office–”

“–but isn’t the mayor your Mom? Why don’t _you_ do that?” Kara Cooper asked. 

‘Precisely _because_ she’s my mother,” Clarke said stiffly, clearly irritated at being interrupted again, “It’s not a good look for the mayor to be granting favours to her daughter, so Diyoza runs that part of the business, and Emori helps, along with one of last year’s interns, Luna. The other past interns are Harper, who works with my side of things, and Miller who helps Bellamy. Monty is a general dogsbody and knows a whole lot about pretty much anything, and Bellamy's sister works with us for the legal side of things, but she's currently on maternity leave, so Jasper has most of her duties at the moment, shared with Monty and Harper.”

"What does Murphy do?" 

"That's none of your concern," Murphy said ominously, and Clarke pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh when half the interns looked to her with terrified expressions. She simply shrugged at them and raised a stern eyebrow at Murphy.

“Don’t forget Roan,” Monty said, “He’s our liaison with Kingsley & Associates, has been since Clarke worked there."

“So, to sum up, this business has run so well for five years because everyone who works here gets on really well,” she held up a hand to stop Jasper’s impending comment, “not all the time, obviously, but we all really care about each other. In the last couple of years, we’ve been hiring interns like this, and the ones who gone on to work here are the ones that prove themselves to be not just professional but also part of this band of delinquents. It’s not a personality contest, and lord knows people here could work on their–”

“If you’re about to insult me, Griffin, let me save you the trouble,” Bellamy waltzed back into the room, tucking his phone into his back pocket, “I could work on my overzealous caring thing because apparently it’s not cool to _“try and be a big brother to the whole world”_ – my sister’s words – and I could probably reign in my incessant hate-flirting with Clarke.”

Clarke made a small noise of irritation in the back of her throat, “I was going to say professionalism, so thank you for proving me right.”

Bellamy barked a laugh, “Fair.”

She turned back to the interns, “If you can’t conduct yourself more professionally than Bellamy, you can’t work here. He gets a pass because he’s my business partner, but none of the rest of you do.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and waved his five people over, brushing past Clarke as he did, letting his hand wander over the small of her back. Shaw noticed how she stiffened slightly, and once again he felt conflicted. He didn’t get a skeevy feeling from Bellamy like he did from McCreary or Dax, but Clarke was clearing uncomfortable with his advances, and Bellamy had all but admitted that he knew that. He was also married, and yet blatantly flaunted the fact that he was flirting with his business partner. Shaw was trying not to judge, but he was slipping back into old habits – it was the catholic in him – but it was getting hard when surrounded by so many new people in such bizarre circumstances. So he resolved to try not to make any more judgements until the end of the first week.

He could handle a week of that, right?

The interns started splitting themselves into groups and moved to follow each of their bosses for a tour of the building and the dividing of paperwork. Before they could get too far, Jasper made them all raise their plastic cups in a toast.

He beamed, "Welcome to the Intern Hunger Games, freshmen!"

"May the odds be in your favour," Monty joined in.

Harper grinned. "And may the best two interns win!"

* * *

* * *

* * *

As they waved off all the interns at the end of the first day, Clarke sagged in relief. All her friends were downstairs eating the leftovers, so she trudged down to join them. Murphy, Jasper and Harper were looking through the fridge for drinks, and Bellamy and Monty were chatting in the corner. She approached the now half-empty table of food and snagged herself a twizzler. 

“So, what do we think?” Monty asked, leaning against the table, “Do we like any of them yet?”

“Shaw, Gaia, Dax and Anya,” Clarke said, “they seemed the most put together, and they were the most invested.”

“I agree,” Bellamy said, prompting Jasper to roll his eyes.

“Of course you do,” he scoffed. 

Bellamy grinned, “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like me to call up Maya and ask her what she thinks? Because I guarantee you would just agree with whatever she said.”

“Low blow, man, low blow,” Jasper grumbled. Maya was the court clerk that he had a crush on, and had been too shy to ask out for the better part of a year, and his friends all delighted in teasing him over it. 

“I don’t just agree with Clarke because I love her, I’m agreeing with her because I think she’s right.” Bellamy said sternly. He turned back to Clarke, scooping an arm around her waist, “I do love you though.”

Clarke laughed. “It’s been killing you not being able to touch me, hasn’t it?”

He groaned and dropped his head into the crook of her neck, “Remind me why we started this bet in the first place?”

“Because we’re both too competitive to let it go?” Clarke suggested. 

“Because when I was an intern, our group couldn’t decide if you two hated each other or were secretly in love, and Jasper started taking bets among you guys as to which one of you would break and reveal your true relationship first,” Harper passed one of the beers in her hand to Monty and slotted herself into his side. 

“And because as a friend group we can’t help being invested in your relationship,” Jasper said, shoving cheese in his mouth, “It’s a sickness, really.”

“Yeah, well, this year I’m gonna win,” Bellamy said, straightening, but keeping Clarke close in his arms.

“Not likely Blake,” Raven said as she entered the office, “My money is on you continuing your losing streak. I just don’t believe you can keep your hands off Clarke in public for two weeks.”

Jasper nodded along. “It’s true, she bet 500 dollars.”

“500 dollars?!” Bellamy’s jaw dropped. “I can’t believe I ever called you my friend.”

“Take it as a compliment,” she sighed, dropping into a chair, “You love your wife so much that I bet 500 bucks you won’t go two weeks without telling your interns she’s your wife. How's the pickings this year, Griffin?”

"Not sure yet," Clarke frowned thoughtfully, "I think you'll like Anya, and probably Roma and Monroe. Bellamy thinks you'll like Shaw but I'm convinced you'll hate him, so we have our own private bet about that, which, unlike this bet, he might actually have a shot at winning. So, no matter what, Raven, I need you to tell Bellamy that you hate him. I intend to win big this year. Oh and Jasper, I'm putting a thousand dollars on myself."

“I can't believe you," Bellamy stole the last bite of her twizzler, "my own wife."

"You didn't marry me for my tact," she pointed out, but pressed a kiss to his jaw all the same.

"You’re all forgetting about my secret weapon,” Bellamy grinned. “She’s my _wife_ now. Which means I can talk about her without ever mentioning Clarke by name, and I can sing her praises all I want.”

Murphy mimed vomiting and Harper and Monty went all doe-eyed at his words. Raven just snorted.

“That’s so lame,” Jasper said, but there was a note of approval in his voice. 

“You’re a sap, you know that?” Clarke asked, beaming up at him. 

“It has been mentioned, yeah,” he pressed a brief kiss to her lips, to the exaggerated groans of annoyance from everyone around them. He rolled his eyes, “Don’t you all have homes to get to? Get out, let me kiss my wife in peace.”

Everyone started throwing things at him, but they all reluctantly got to their feet and started leaving. The last to go was Murphy, who leaned in close to mutter, “I’ve got fifty bucks on you Blake. Don’t you dare let me down.”

Once they were alone, Clarke extricated herself from his arms and strode up the stairs towards her office. He followed her, latching the door behind him as he closed it. She didn’t even glance at him, just started going through the folder of information about the interns, looking for all intents and purposes like she didn’t even know he was there. She kept up that façade until the moment he moved behind her and slid his arm around her waist, pressing a kiss behind her ear. She smiled, letting her head drop forward when he started mouthing down the side of her neck.

Bellamy dragged Clarke’s blazer off her shoulders, kissing every new inch of skin he exposed as he did. 

“You almost called me Princess today,” she murmured.

He spun her around and pulled her closer, trailing gentle bites down her neck, tongue laving over them soothingly. “Yes I did.”

“You’re not supposed to do that,” she pointed out, and her hands were already tugging at his belt, but he placed his own over hers, stilling her. 

“You’re right,” he said, shifting back a little so they could see each other properly. His pupils were blown and his hair was a mess and she was sure she didn’t look much better. His mouth fell into that familiar grin she loved so much as he slowly sunk down onto his knees, hands sliding to the back of her thighs. She drew in a sharp breath. He scraped his teeth along her hipbone, catching them on the lace of her underwear. “I better make it up to you then, huh?”

“God, I love you so much,” she sighed. 

He chuckled into the crease of her thigh and she scratched her nails against his scalp the way he liked. 

“I bet you say that to all your business partners,” he teased.

“Just the ones that go down on me,” she quipped right back. 

“Wow, do you and Diyoza need to tell me something?” He asked, and she laughed, tugging him up just enough to kiss him again. 

“You’re such a dork,” she complained, but her annoyance didn’t land because her smile was ruining the kiss and her heart was racing in her chest. 

“And yet you love me,” he sunk his teeth into her bottom lip enough to elicit another gasp from her. 

“Yes I do,” she breathed.

He returned to his knees, and by the time the sun was dipping below the horizon, they were both on the floor, completely dishevelled. They were both panting, and her hands were buried in his hair while he pressed his ear against her chest, listening to her heart thump against her ribs. He pulled at her left hand and brought her ring finger up to his lips, pressing them to where her ring should be. She kept it in the box on their bedside table, not because of the bet, but because she preferred it that way – she was terrified of losing it, and she liked the comfort of knowing she would wake up to see it there. He had a plan to fix that, to make sure she had something she could wear every day, but it was a surprise that he intended to save until their first anniversary, which happened to coincide with the end of the two week "Intern Hunger Games". That’s why he had to actually win this year. He wanted the surprise to be perfect. 

He realised that Clarke was looking at him with soft eyes. “What?” He asked, lifting himself off her so he could see her beautiful blue eyes properly. 

“Does it bother you? That I don’t wear the rings?” She looked worried, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe that worry from her face for the rest of their lives. 

“No, not at all,” he said truthfully, “I know why you don’t. In fact, for the next two weeks, I _love_ that you don’t wear them.”

She smacked his shoulder playfully and he laughed. 

“Seriously,” he said earnestly, “I’m happy as long as you’re happy, and you’re happiest when the rings are safely in their box by the bed. You don't have to wear a ring to prove you love me, Clarke, I'm pretty convinced on that account. Societal traditions don't hold any bearing on my feelings. I’m completely content, Princess.”

“Me too,” she murmured, sitting up to capture his lips once more. 

“We really need to get home,” he mumbled. She nodded agreement, but neither of them moved for the longest time, hands roaming over skin as their lips met again and again. It was only when Clarke’s phone went off that she got to her feet and dragged Bellamy with her, putting her clothes back on and throwing his trousers to him. They gave each other cursory once-overs and then descended the stairs together. 

Clarke got to the door first and glanced over her shoulder as she opened it, “Oh, by the way, I’m winning this bet – you’re going down, Blake.”

He grinned as he followed her to his car, and she kept her hand on his thigh the whole way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaddya think so far???
> 
> For reference:  
>  **PI INTERNS**  
>  Zeke Shaw  
> Roma  
> Zoe Monroe  
> Anya  
> McCreary
> 
>  **LEGAL INTERNS**  
>  Dax  
> Macallan  
> Riley  
> Gaia  
> Kara Cooper
> 
> Okay to make the betting pool clearer, and so I don't have to waste a bunch of expository dialogue on in during the chapters, I'm putting Jasper's lists down here at the end of every chapter. They will all switch bets, raise them, lower them, and change their reasoning. This fic is all a bit of fun, and much less serious than its predecessor, so I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> BETS:  
>  **Raven** \- $500 on Clarke, Bellamy's too whipped  
>  **Murphy** \- $50 on Blake. My reasoning isn't necessary for you to know.  
>  **Emori** \- $50 on Blake because Murphy seems to have information that no-one else does.  
>  **Jasper** \- $70 on Clarke - past performances don't lie, you guys!  
>  **Monty** \- $30 on Clarke, I've seen Bellamy try this before, it never works.  
>  **Harper** \- $40 on Clarke, because I believe in her (sorry Bellamy!)  
>  **Roan** \- $450 on Clarke, have you seen the way Blake looks at her?? Sorry buddy, you're not going to win. It's just not going to happen.  
>  **Octavia** \- $50 on Bellamy. I believe in you big brother.  
>  **Lincoln** \- $50 on Clarke. We love you Bellamy, but we'd rather not lose our money.  
>  **Luna** \- $20 on Clarke, she's a stoic badass.  
>  **Miller** \- $30 on Bellamy. He can do this. He's also my main boss and could make my life hell if I vote for Clarke. Love you buddy, hope Clarke doesn't wipe the floor with you too badly this year.
> 
>  **Clarke** \- $1000 on myself.  
>  **Bellamy** \- $1000 on Clarke. (hey, I may as well hedge my bets, right?)
> 
>  
> 
> Does this story make any kind of sense??? No?? WHO CARES, IT'S FUN NONSENSE!! 
> 
> Next Chapter: Zeke meets Raven and Bellarke struggle to keep their relationship under wraps. 
> 
> Much love <3 <3 <3


	2. A Young Soul In This Very Strange World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days 2 & 3 in the firm - Shaw decides he really doesn't like a certain slimy someone, and he meets Raven for the first time. 
> 
> In the background, Bellamy and Clarke start fighting dirty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, i know this is late,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,that's it, that's the sentence, i have no excuses.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Title of this chapter comes from New Soul by Yael Naim, and no, i haven't worked out the scheme for titling chapters for this fic. is it song lyrics??? is it dialogue from the chapter, like last time??? is it quotes??? i don't know, don't look at me

The first day had moved quickly; they picked temporary desks, and got a tour of the office, and had their responsibilities explained. Shaw heard more whispers of the pool, but other than that it passed without too much fuss. He still wasn’t sure what it really was, just that you could either put your money on Bellamy or Clarke, and that the interns weren’t allowed to participate. 

When he got home, he was so exhausted that he collapsed on his bed without taking his clothes off. 

The second day was dragging.

For a start, his bike had started sputtering on the way there and he was pretty sure if he hadn’t arrived at work when he did, his engine would have blown. He resolved to ask Bellamy about getting it fixed in his auto-shop later, but before he even got in the door, that had put him in a bad mood. 

Then there was the seating arrangements. They were all in a cluster of desks near Bellamy’s office, while the other five people were in a similar place near Clarke’s, and Shaw wouldn’t mind so much if he wasn’t stuck next to McCreary. 

Anya and Monroe were fairly quiet and sensible seeming, and Roma appeared to be nice, if a little ditzy _(stop judging, Zeke)_ but McCreary was just… Well.

“Check out the legs on her,” he grunted to Shaw as Harper passed. “Honestly, if she wasn’t taken, I’d take a run at her myself.”

Shaw grimaced, but managed to nod in his direction, “Unlucky that she’s taken then, huh?”

“Yeah. Unlucky.” He smiled, a twisted, upsetting curve of his lips over his teeth, and leaned closer as if sharing a secret. “How about you, Shaw? You picked out the hottest piece of ass in here yet?”

 _Gross,_ Zeke thought, trying not to react. “Uh, no.”

“What about that Clarke, hm? She’s a pretty thing.”

“I mean, she’s our boss, so no.”

“Aw, come on, just because she’s our boss doesn’t mean we don’t have eyes. The rack _alone–”_

Shaw was saved from a sudden outburst when Bellamy’s hand came down on his shoulder, “Hey, Zeke, do you mind giving me a hand with this case? I figure out of everyone here, you’ll be the most help with this.”

“Sure thing,” he said, letting out a quick breath and unclenching his fists before he stood. 

He followed Bellamy into his office, closing the door quietly behind him. Bellamy gestured at the seat in front of the desk, and they sat across from each other. He was handed an open file and he skimmed it briefly before he looked back up at his boss. 

“Sir?”

Bellamy made a face. “Don’t… don’t call me that.”

“What would you rather I called you?” 

“Whatever you like – Blake, Bellamy, Stubborn Ass – I’ll answer to it.”

“I’m guessing that last one was Miss Griffin.”

Bellamy smiled. “Yeah, it was. Multiple times. Over a series of years. Oh, and don’t let her hear you call her Miss Griffin either. She prefers Clarke.”

“You’re awful casual here,” Shaw said, just an observation, and Bellamy shrugged. 

“The firm that Clarke started with had a hierarchy, and if you didn’t follow it to the letter, you were treated like shit. I grew up on the poor side of town, raising my sister on my own and working too many jobs where people looked down their noses at me. Neither of us wanted to start anything that felt like that. We want everyone to feel like they’re on equal standing.” He explained. “Don’t get me wrong, we’re still your bosses, but… we never want anyone to feel belittled, or like they can’t come to us at any time for help.”

“I like that.” Shaw said. 

“Good,” Bellamy’s smile widened. “Now, are you gonna help me with this case?”

“I get a choice?”

“Of course. If you’d rather not, I’m sure Anya would do it, but I figured this is in your wheelhouse. He’s an army vet, accused of killing someone in a bar fight two weeks ago. There’s footage that says he didn’t start that fight, but because he escalated it, they’re trying to up it from manslaughter to homicide.”

“And you think he deserves a lesser charge?”

“I think he deserves someone who’ll listen to what he has to say. If we investigate and it turns out he’s a cold-blooded killer, then we’ll drop the case.”

Shaw grinned. “Then yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Good man,” Bellamy said, and they started flicking through the file, narrowing down the avenues of investigation and divvying them up into easily achievable tasks. They’d been at it for barely an hour when there was a knock at the door, and then Clarke strode in. 

“Hey, I’m going downtown to meet Roan for lunch – he’s got a client he thinks we’d like, something to do with a scorned woman and a severed member – so I’ll be out until this afternoon. Oh, and I’m bringing my interns with me so they can see what it’s like when law-firms talk to each other, so it’s just you and your people for the rest of the day.”

“Sure thing,” Bellamy said, not even looking up from the page. 

“Raven’s coming by later to check the wifi and make sure that encryption software is up to date, because there’s no point having Monty hack anything if people can just see us do it.” She said, and he finally turned to frown up at her. 

“What’s wrong with the old encryption software?”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Do I look like Raven to you?”

His eyes darted down to her low-cut top and lingered there far too long, which made Shaw more than a little uncomfortable. When Bellamy’s eyes returned to Clarke’s face, she was pink in the cheeks with an unimpressed expression steeling her eyes, and he smirked at her. “No, no you definitely don’t look like Raven.”

“Also, my mother invited me for lunch this weekend and Kane’s going to be there and you’re coming with me.”

“Naturally.”

“You don’t get to bail just because you hit a big lead again, Bellamy,” she put her hands on the desk next to Shaw and leaned over, suddenly a lot closer to Bellamy than he expected, judging by the way his eyes widened fractionally, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “And you need to interrogate Kane for me before Saturday, you promised.”

“I know, but honestly, he doesn’t need interrogating. I’ve run his records – he’s completely clean.”

_“Bellamy.”_

“I know, I know. I’ll get lunch with him this week.”

“You better,” she said menacingly, before striding from the office. Bellamy watched her go with a faintly alarmed expression on his face. 

He shook himself out of it and returned to the paperwork, apologising to Shaw for the interruption. “That woman is a goddamn whirlwind.”

Shaw clucked his tongue and pushed down his misgivings about Bellamy’s behaviour. He was just on edge from McCreary’s earlier remarks, that’s all. “You can say that again. She’s terrifying.”

“But in a good way, right?” Bellamy asked, teasing. 

“She took down The Wallaces – you need to be a little terrifying to do something like that.”

“You’re damn right.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
They broke for lunch sometime after twelve, and Bellamy showed him into the lunchroom, where a woman with her brown hair swept back in a long ponytail had already taken up residence on the couch, fiddling with something metal. She was stretched out over the whole sofa and one of her legs seemed to be in some kind of fancy metal brace, and she was really quite uncommonly pretty. Shaw pre-emptively wanted to punch McCreary for whatever he would say when he saw her. 

“Hey Blake, how goes the Intern Hunger Games?” She asked without looking up. 

Bellamy snorted. “I hate that that stupid name stuck.”

“Hey, blame Jasper and his social media campaign,” she teased.

Bellamy actually choked on a laugh as he started brewing coffee. “Your usual, Reyes?”

She cocked her head at him. “What do you think?”

“Coming up,” he grabbed down a mug in the same shade of red as her leather jacket before he turned to Zeke, “Shaw, coffee?”

“Uh, yeah, Black no sugars, thanks,” he said collapsing into a chair and propping his elbows up on the table. 

Reyes, if that was her name, was staring over at him with vested interest, eyes narrowed as if trying to work something out, and when Bellamy finished pouring the drinks and brought hers over to her, she thanked him before she said, “Really, Blake? That one? You’re gonna owe Clarke money.”

“What else is new,” he joked, sitting down on the arm of the couch and flicking her good leg playfully. “Shaw, Raven, Raven, Shaw.”

Shaw raised a hand in greeting and she offered a curt nod in response before she glared at Bellamy, who only chuckled and leaned over her so he could mutter in her ear, “Give him a chance, Reyes. I genuinely think you’ll like him. I do.”

“Why don’t you _marry_ him then,” she snarked childishly and he suddenly groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. She frowned. “What?”

“I just remembered, I have to call Kane and ask him out for lunch.”

“Um… so you can ask _him_ to marry you?” She asked, not tracking the thought process.

“No, because Clarke thinks he’s going to ask for her permission to propose to her mother on the weekend, and she wants me to interrogate him first.” He pulled out his phone.

Raven winced. “Oof, that can’t be fun for Clarke.”

“No. No, she’s, uh… tense.” He said, something flashing behind his eyes, but before he could say anything else the person on the other end picked up. “Hey Marcus.”

Raven turned her attention back to Shaw, who was sipping his coffee in silence, observing them. They acted like old friends: not quite like siblings, but not as much chemistry as Bellamy had with Clarke, or maybe not the same _kind_ of chemistry. Either way, he was intrigued, and he had been perfectly happy watching them. Now, however, it looked like Raven was about to drag him into conversation. 

“So you’re Shaw?” She asked.

He took a long draw of his coffee before he answered. “Yup.”

“You have a first name?”

“I’m pretty sure you already know my first name.”

“Humour me.”

“Miles, but no-one calls me that.”

“Okay, so what do you _want_ to be called?”

“Shaw’s fine. Or Zeke.”

She grinned, and there was a challenge in it. “So, _Zeke,_ I have to ask – is that _your_ piece of shit motorbike outside?”

He bristled, annoyance creeping up his spine. She caught the change in demeanour and shook her head like she disapproved of him. 

“Of course it is,” she rolled her eyes, “I should have put money on it.”

“What’s wrong with my motorbike?”

“Nothing, just that it’s on its last legs. You should retire her, and by that, I mean shoot her in the head and let her go because she’s a lost cause.”

He put his mug back down on the table a little harder than he meant to and it made a loud noise in the small room. “There a reason you’re here, taking up the whole couch and talking down to me about my bike?”

She sat up a little straighter, ponytail swishing as she did. “Well, considering I helped build this business, I can sit wherever I want and take up as much of the couch as I like, so you better watch the attitude, _Miles.”_

 _“My attitude?”_ He scoffed. “That’s rich. I was just sitting here minding my own business, _you’re_ the one who started talking to _me,_ and the first thing you did was insult my goddamn bike.”

She laughed, but there was no humour in it. “That thing barely deserves to be called a motorbike at this point.”

“Right.” He said, voice hard. He gritted his teeth and counted backwards from ten, taking a deep breath. “I’m going to finish my lunch outside. When Bellamy gets off the phone, let him know that I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“Tell him yourself!” She called at his retreating back, and he really, _really_ tried to remember that he wasn’t supposed to be making snap judgements anymore.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
After ten minutes of seething, he eventually calmed down enough to eat the wrap he’d packed, and five minutes later, Bellamy came out to sit with him. He was expecting to get rung out for his behaviour, but instead, his boss offered him a potato chip and clapped him on the back.

“You couldn’t have _pretended_ to like her?” He asked cheerfully. 

He sighed. “Sorry, do I need to apologise to her?”

“No, from what I could tell, she started it.” Bellamy waved a hand pacifyingly. “Besides, it’s mostly my fault. I just figured, you’re an ex-pilot, she’s a mechanic, you might have something to talk about, so I bet Clarke that you’d become friends. She bet that you’d hate each other… so now I owe her 20 bucks.”

“Ah,” he said. _Well, that makes sense._ “Sorry for failing you. You can’t lie to her?”

Bellamy looked alarmed. “Shaw, if you take anything away from the internship, just one thing – you do not lie to Clarke.”

“Noted.”

Bellamy’s phone started ringing, lyrics blasting out from his pocket as he scrambled to answer it. 

_“Get me a drink, I get drunk off one sip just so I can adore you. I want the entire street out of town just so I can be alone with you. Now go when you’re ready, my head’s getting heavy pressed against your arm… I adore you…”_

When he pulled it out, his screen was lit up with a crown emoji and the word **PRINCESS** and he smiled placatingly at Shaw. “Sorry, it’s the wife, I’ve gotta take this.”

He got to his feet and started pacing up and down a few feet away, close enough that Zeke could still hear him. 

“Hey Princess, what’s up?” He paused, listening. “Yeah, I did. No, I think it’ll be fine, you don’t need to worry about it, at least not any more than you normally would… Okay. Okay, yeah, I’ll see you at home. Love you.” She must have said it back, because his face lit up in a smile, and it was the first time Shaw noticed him looking completely at ease in the two days he’d spent with him. 

When he came to sit back down on the bench with him, he flipped the phone between his fingers, lost in thought. 

“You married, Shaw?” He asked. 

“Uh, no,” he said, not sure where Bellamy was going with this line of questioning. 

“You got a girlfriend?” 

“Not for a while, no.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not really my thing.”

“Well, when you get that girl, the one that makes you smile in any situation, the one that tears your heart out and stomps on it just by existing, I want you to promise me that you’ll treat her right. I love my wife, more than anything in the world, but I haven’t always been there for her when she needs me, and that’s on me. Do better than me, Shaw.”

“Uh… is everything okay at home, sir?”

 _“Bellamy,”_ he tutted, “and everything’s fine. I just… the Intern Thing–”

“–Hunger Games–”

“–yeah, that; it bleeds into time I would usually be spending with her. It’s later hours, earlier starts, more paperwork. You’ve only been here for two days, but the amount of work we have to do in the weeks leading up to your arrival really eats into any time I’d usually have to just… be. Being away from her more than usual just always reminds me of the times, early in our relationship, when I pulled away because I thought that’s what was best for us both. Don’t be an idiot like I was, Shaw. You find that girl and you don’t let go.” He paused a moment, considering, “Unless she wants you to, obviously. If I ever find out you’ve been impressing yourself on a girl who’s not interested, I’ll send Murphy to break your kneecaps.”

Shaw snorted. “Deal.”

They went back inside to finish up, and more than once, Shaw caught him staring out the window as the sunlight dipped towards the horizon. He just couldn’t seem to work Bellamy Blake out at all. Even if he _wanted_ to make a snap judgement about him _(which he definitely was **not** doing)_ he couldn’t. One minute he was shamelessly hitting on Clarke, and the next he was talking about how much he loved his wife. 

This was going to be an interesting two weeks.  
  
  


* * *

  


* * *

  


* * *

  
  
  
That evening, when Bellamy got home, it was long past dark and Madi was already in bed. 

“Sorry,” he said, groaning as he lowered himself onto the couch. “Anya wanted to stay behind for an hour and talk about the case she and Monroe are on, and when I finally got out, Shaw was still outside because his motorbike wouldn’t start.”

Clarke shuffled up behind him, already in her pyjamas, and tangled her fingers in his hair, tipping his head back until it was pressed against her stomach. “So, naturally, you had to stay and help him start it.”

“Yep,” he ran a hand down his face. “Then it _wouldn’t_ start, so I threw it in the back of my truck and drove it to the shop. I’ll see if I can do something about it tomorrow. Anyway, I dropped him home and I’m picking him up again tomorrow, so I can drop Madi off at school on my way to his apartment if you like.”

She scratched at his scalp, nodding, and he let his eyes fall closed. 

“Oh, and I’ve decided I’m not giving you any money for that bet with Shaw and Raven. Not yet. I think there’s hope for a real friendship there.”

“You just want to keep your money.”

“Maybe.” He said. “Just let me have this until the end of the two weeks.”

There was a long pause, so long that he almost opened his eyes again, but she just hummed softly and tugged at his ear. 

“Okay, but you’re in charge of breakfast,” Clarke said. 

“When am I _not_ in charge of breakfast?”

“Good point,” she murmured, bending down to kiss him. It was an awkward angle, and her nose bumped his chin, but he didn’t care because she tasted of hot chocolate and smelt like vanilla and something distinctly _Clarke_ and he wanted nothing more than to stay there and drown in his senses. 

“So, you _threw_ his motorbike into your truck?” She mumbled against his lips. “That’s impressive. Those things are heavy.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to kiss you here,” he said, twisting in his seat so he could grab her waist and pull her over the back of the couch and into his lap. She barked out a surprised laugh before he caught it with his lips, and she draped her arms around his neck. “You’ve been playing dirty, Princess.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Yesterday you wore that blue dress that I can’t resist, and today you deliberately wore that loose green blouse and then bent over the desk. Do you have any idea how hard it is to act like I don’t want to just take you right there and then? You’re killing me here, Princess.”

She smirked against his mouth and he bit playfully at her jaw before moving down the column of her throat, being careful not to leave any marks. 

“Fine, I might’ve been playing dirty,” she said breathily, “but you’re just as bad. You keep checking me out, _in front of people,_ and crossing your arms at me, and doing that thing you know I hate where you run your hands through your hair and show off your goddamn muscles.”

“Not my fault you have a thing for my arms, babe,” he kissed the corner of her mouth and she made a frustrated noise.

“Admit you’ve been playing dirty.”

“I will not, because I haven’t. _You’re_ playing dirty, I’m just reacting.”

“Fine, you want a war, Blake?” She asked, lacing their hands together and moving so that she was straddling him, face hovering over his; just far enough away that he couldn’t reach her lips. He whined when she dipped her head and dodged his mouth, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his ear. She sat back and lowered her voice to a husky whisper, “You’ve got a war. I’m thinking I’ll wear my old black blouse tomorrow, maybe pair it with those dark grey jeans you love so much.”

She finally closed the gap between them and he tugged her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp. She shifted down against him and he moaned at the friction. His hands squeezed at hers, held up either side of his head, and when she released them, he didn’t waste any time sliding them under her shirt, stroking every inch of exposed skin he could reach. 

After a long moment, she pulled away, pressing her forehead to his.

“I missed you today,” he said softly. 

“I know,” she sighed. “Me too. Roan says hello.”

“So does Kane. We’re having dinner on Thursday.”

“Thank you,” she kissed him again, briefly, before she climbed off him and tugged him to his feet. “Come on, you need sleep.”

“I could postpone sleep,” he said suggestively. 

She giggled as he followed her towards the bedroom, arms encircling her waist from behind. “No, we can’t. Not for the next two weeks; we’re going to be tired enough already.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled, and he kicked off his shoes and threw his shirt into the laundry basket in the corner, collapsing face first onto the mattress. He really was exhausted. 

“Pants off, Bellamy,” she reminded him.

“Y’know, I really prefer it when you say those words to me in a different context,” he muttered, yanking his pants down and launching them in the general direction of the basket. He stretched an arm out over the empty space next to him. “Why aren’t you in bed yet?”

“I’m just setting your alarm for tomorrow,” she said, and then the bed dipped and she lifted his arm so she could tuck herself into his side. “Now go to sleep.”

“If you’re wearing those jeans tomorrow, I’m going to start playing dirty, Princess.”

She smiled into his bicep. “Good.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
His alarm screeched loudly next to his ear, jerking him from whatever dream he was having, and he groaned, rolling over enough to kiss Clarke’s temple before he clambered out of bed, shutting the noise off. 

He got dressed on autopilot and he was pretty sure his eyes didn’t even open until he got into the kitchen. He started making eggs and bacon, pouring himself coffee just as Madi came thundering down the stairs. 

“Hush, Clarke’s sleeping,” he berated mildly. 

“You mean _you’re_ still sleeping,” she bit back, and he swatted her hand away from the bacon.

“If you’re gonna give me lip, you don’t get bacon.”

“Sorry!” She said, snatching a piece before he could stop her. She tilted her head at him. “You didn’t get home until late last night.”

“No, sorry, I was stuck late at work.”

“You always are when the Hunger Games are on.” There was a note of disapproval in her voice, something she had almost definitely learned from Clarke. 

He ruffled her hair. “I know, sorry kiddo.” 

She wrinkled her nose at the pet name and he grinned, grabbing the car keys. He tossed her bag in the backseat and let her ride shotgun and even pick the music, which he regretted instantly because she started blasting Kelly Clarkson at full volume. 

He turned the dial way down and groaned, “You’ve been spending way too much time with Murphy.”

“Whatever.” She grinned, turning it back up again. 

When he pulled up at the curb, he passed over her bag and squeezed her shoulder. “Knock ‘em dead, kid.”

“Bye Bellamy,” she waved over her shoulder.

Shaw was already waiting outside his apartment when Bellamy arrived, and he hopped into the passenger seat and raised his eyebrow at the music that was still playing – albeit softly – from the speaker. 

“Big Kelly Clarkson fan, are you?”

He just raised one shoulder. “My wife and her best friend seem to have converted everyone else I know. I may as well stop fighting it.”

Shaw nodded, “Fair enough man.”

Bellamy didn’t fail to notice when Shaw subtly turned it up.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Clarke was already sitting with her interns when they arrived, wearing a familiar tight black blouse and dark jeans. 

_Oh, it was **so** on._

Bellamy swallowed, raised his eyebrows at her, and then approached the table of legal interns, a wide smile plastered on his face. 

“So, Gaia, is that a family name?”

The girl jumped as if startled that he would be speaking to her first. “Uh, no, my mom liked it. All I know is that it’s something to do with Greek Mythology.”

Bellamy managed to glance at Clarke the exact moment she put two and two together, and it was practically perfect. She was squinting at him, lips pressed together in frustration and arms crossed over her stomach. He knew that this was one of her weak spots – him talking passionately about mythology or history – and he intended to exploit it. And she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

“It is,” he sat down on the edge of the table, “have you ever heard the story?”

“Can’t say I have,” Gaia said. “My mother’s always been the strong and silent type.”

“Well, Gaia was one of the primordial gods, the mother of the Earth, and she–”

“–don’t you have your own interns to train?” Clarke said, a sharp edge to her voice that he hadn’t heard in a while. 

“Oh, you’re right,” he winked at her before he yelled across the room, “get over here!”

“Bellamy,” she hissed, “what are you doing?”

“Educating our interns together. Isn’t that a nice way to start the morning, Clarke? With a few minutes of casual discussion rather than work?” 

She glared, but she couldn’t fight with him so she just jerked her chin at him in acquiescence. 

As the others all pulled up chairs, Bellamy leaned in close to whisper, “You wanted to play dirty, Princess? Well you better be ready to play.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For reference:  
>  **PI INTERNS**  
>  Zeke Shaw  
> Roma  
> Zoe Monroe  
> Anya  
> McCreary
> 
>  **LEGAL INTERNS**  
>  Dax  
> Macallan  
> Riley  
> Gaia  
> Kara Cooper
> 
> Okay to make the betting pool clearer, and so I don't have to waste a bunch of expository dialogue on in during the chapters, I'm putting Jasper's lists down here at the end of every chapter. They will all switch bets, raise them, lower them, and change their reasoning. Here's the changes from days 2 & 3:
> 
> BETS:  
>  **Raven** \- $500 on Clarke, Bellamy's too whipped  
>  **Murphy** \- $100 on Blake. Trust me, he's winning this year. My reasoning isn't necessary for you to know.  
>  **Emori** \- $50 on Blake because Murphy definitely has information that no-one else does.  
>  **Jasper** \- $70 on Clarke - past performances don't lie, you guys!  
>  **Monty** \- $30 on Clarke, I've seen Bellamy try this before, it never works. (but also Murphy's confidence is concerning me)  
>  **Harper** \- $40 on Clarke, because I believe in her (sorry Bellamy!)  
>  **Roan** \- $450 on Clarke, have you seen the way Blake looks at her?? Sorry buddy, you're not going to win. It's just not going to happen.  
>  **Octavia** \- $50 on Bellamy. I believe in you big brother.  
>  **Lincoln** \- $50 on Clarke. We love you Bellamy, but we'd rather not lose our money.  
>  **Luna** \- $20 on Clarke, she's a stoic badass.  
>  **Miller** \- $30 on Bellamy. He can do this. He's also my main boss and could make my life hell if I vote for Clarke. Love you buddy, hope Clarke doesn't wipe the floor with you too badly this year.  
>  **Kane** \- $150 on Bellamy. I've got a good feeling about it this year. 
> 
> **Clarke** \- $1000 on myself.  
>  **Bellamy** \- $1000 on Clarke. (hey, I may as well hedge my bets, right?)
> 
>  
> 
> Your comments give me the will to live, and I adore anyone who takes the time to read this fic
> 
>  **Next Up:** _Shaw and Raven clash some more, and Bellarke get competitive. Plus, Clarke has a terrible, no good, very bad day._


	3. It's Just A Little Touch Of Fate (It'll Be Okay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Thursday and Friday, Shaw makes some new friends.
> 
> *whispering loudly* ONE OF THEM IS RAVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An actual third chapter??? In under two months??? That's right bitches, I told you I wasn't abandoning this story!!
> 
> I'm still having some personal issues, and I DEFINITELY still have far too much uni work to do, so updating will be _slow_ but I swear I'm still here and I'm still working hard.
> 
> The title comes from the Lisa Mitchell song, [Neopolitan Dreams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5RowAc-H3EM) and it's great and so is she, so I highly recommend checking her out. 
> 
> Anyway, onward to the story!!

At the start of the fourth day, when Bellamy picked him up, he greeted him with an apology. 

“We’re swinging by the garage first, because your bike needs new parts and you have to sign off on actually paying for them.”

“That’s not a problem.” Shaw tapped his fingers against the door handle. “Why are you apologising?”

He winced. “I don’t think I mentioned who I co-own the garage with, did I?”

“No?”

They pulled up and Shaw immediately realised what was going on, because there, sitting down beside his motorbike with a screwdriver in hand, was Raven Reyes. He glared over at Bellamy, who raised his hands in mock surrender. 

“Listen, if I had time to fix your bike myself, I swear I would be. It just so happens that I’m busy running around after hapless interns, so Raven is the only one running the shop for the next two weeks.” He sighed. “I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he said, opening the door, “I’m an adult. I can have a five-minute conversation with someone I don’t like. I do it every day.”

“That’s the spirit.” Bellamy said, climbing out after him. “Hey Reyes.”

“Bellamy,” she said coolly. _“Miles.”_

He made sure not to outwardly react to that one. “Raven. Have you shot my bike in the head yet?”

“No, she’s annoying me, so I was thinking I’d beat her to death,” she waved a hefty spanner in his direction. “What do you think?”

“I think I love my bike and I’ll pay as much as it costs to fix her.” He said seriously, and the mocking expression fell off her face and was replaced with understanding, just for a moment, before it returned. 

“It’s going to be expensive.” She said. 

Bellamy’s phone started ringing with the same music as the day before and he took a few steps back. “I have to take this. Don’t kill each other while I’m on the phone.”

“No promises.” Raven quipped.

“I mean it, Reyes, I need my intern back in one piece!” He wandered over to the car and leaned against the hood, smiling as he spoke to his wife, scrubbing a hand absentmindedly through his hair. 

There was a silence steeped in something cold and awkward, and it stretched out for far too long before Shaw just swallowed his pride and sat down across from her, picking up a screwdriver. She looked like she was about to protest, but something stopped her, and instead she just pointed at the radiator. He nodded and started unscrewing it, deft fingers making quick work of the job.

A small crease appeared between her brows as she watched him, but she didn’t say anything.

Bellamy laughed at something his wife said, and Shaw glanced over his shoulder at him. He just barely managed to catch the end of the sentence. “…you say that now, Princess, but when I get home, I promise you you’ll be saying something else.”

Shaw made a face. “Is he always like that with his wife?”

Raven snorted. “Always. It’s nauseating.”

“How long have they been together?” 

“Together nearly six years, married for one of those.”

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but Bellamy jogged over, “Raven, Princess wants to know if you’re busy on Saturday.”

“What for?”

“What for, babe?” He asked into the phone. He looked back up, “She’s trying to organise a girl’s day, because Octavia hasn’t hung out with anyone since she went on maternity leave and apparently she’s going crazy cooped up at home.”

“Urgh, I guess so,” Raven feigned disinterest for barely a second before cracking a smile. “Just as long as it really is us girls. Last time, Murphy tagged along and much as I love him, I was ready to strangle him by the end of the day.”

“Isn’t that just every interaction with Murphy?” Bellamy deadpanned. Then immediately into the phone, “No, please don’t put him on.”

Raven snorted and Shaw concealed his smile behind his hand. After a couple more minutes, Bellamy rang off, and came over to crouch beside them, appraising the bike. 

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, Rae,” he said squinting at part of the airbox that had just rusted away. “Honestly Zeke, how was it even still running?”

“She’s a trustworthy thing,” he said, patting her wheel gently. “No matter what she goes through, she just keeps puttering.”

Raven glanced up at him, another one of those indescribable looks crossing her face. She quickly schooled it into a cocky expression and slapped Bellamy’s arm lightly. “Go to work boys, I’ll take good care of her.”

Zeke stood reluctantly, and when he spoke it was quiet and sincere; the most open he’d been with anyone since he arrived in town. “Just… please don’t murder my bike, okay?”

“I won’t.” She said, and he believed her.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
When they arrived at work, Clarke was ordering her interns around urgently, looking stressed. 

“Uh, Clarke, you okay?” Bellamy asked, approaching her cautiously. 

She rounded on him, furious. “No, obviously not! One of my clients has been lying to me and it’s going to put this whole case in jeopardy.”

He stepped into her space, placing careful hands on her shoulder like he was dealing with a skittish predator. He might as well have been, with the ways her eyes were burning at him. “Clarke. Breathe. Which client?”

“Lexa.” She said, and it was like all the oxygen was sucked from the room.

Murphy grinned slyly, stepping closer, and the interns seemed to realise that something important was happening, because they started slowing their movements, glancing between each other and the two bosses. A guilty look crossed Miller’s face and he disappeared from the room. Jasper, Monty and Harper all stopped what they were doing and turned to look, and Shaw found himself stuck to the floor, unable to back away from whatever argument was about to take place. 

Bellamy stepped back, crossing his arms. “You took on Lexa as a client?”

“Don’t give me that, Bellamy, it’s not a big deal, it’s only Lexa.”

 _“Only_ Lexa…” He trailed off, eyeing her incredulously. “Clarke, we talked about this. Last time you took on a client without talking to me first, we talked about this and you said we weren’t doing that anymore – that we would always run everything by each other.”

“That was when I took on Dante Wallace–”

A collective gasp went up from the interns, but everyone else had dark expressions on their faces, like this was an argument they’d had before. “You took on Dante Wallace as a client?!” Riley asked loudly.

“–not the point!” Clarke snapped at him, and they all went back to pretending to do menial tasks. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “That was different.”

“How, Clarke, tell me how this is different?”

“Because it’s Lexa–”

“–exactly! It’s _Lexa!”_

Clarke stalked forward and poked him in the chest, anger dripping from her every pore. Shaw shuffled out of the way, but he needn’t have bothered – neither of them seemed to remember that anyone else existed. 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Clarke hissed. 

“What case could Lexa possibly even have that we’re equipped to help her with?”

“Her fiancé is in a coma!” Clarke yelled, and Bellamy immediately froze. Clarke slumped, like all the energy had gone out of her, “They were walking home one night and they got mugged. Some kid with a gun, she said, he came out of nowhere and demanded their money. When they said no, he shot Costia. He shot her, right in front of Lexa. I had to take it, Bellamy, I _had_ to.”

A pained look crossed Bellamy’s face and he slumped into the nearest chair. “Okay, Clarke. I understand that. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t just _tell me?”_

“I didn’t want to worry you,” she admitted. “You have enough on your plate, with the interns and all the new cases, and not being able to be at home as much as you’d like. I didn’t want to add to that.”

“You can’t bear everything on your own, Clarke,” he said, and it sounded like the kind of thing he’d said a lot over the years; a phrase that fell far too easily from his tongue, with a hint of resigned exasperation. “That’s why I’m here.”

“I know.”

Miller reappeared, folder in hand, and passed it off to Bellamy, who squinted up at him. “You knew about this?”

Miller just gave him a hard look in response. 

Bellamy shook his head. “If I was more of a dick, I would dock your pay for going behind my back.”

“And I would reimburse him anyway,” Clarke said, squeezing Miller’s hand in thanks as he returned to his desk. 

“I know.” Bellamy opened the folder. “So what was she lying about?”

And just like that, the office returned to normal, the tension completely gone. Harper and Monty shared a smile, Jasper made a goofy expression and turned to Macallan and dragged him into conversation, and the rest of the interns continued doing the jobs Clarke had assigned them before the argument started. 

Shaw walked towards the cluster of desks the other four investigative interns were crowding around. “What the hell was that about?”

“Who do we think Lexa is?” Roma asked. 

“Girlfriend?” McCreary offered, a smirk on his lips. 

“My guess is ex-girlfriend,” Monroe said. “My friends only overreact like that when I tell them I’ve been talking to my ex.”

“Good guess,” Anya said, turning her laptop around so they could all see the photos of Clarke and a dark-haired woman stumbling out of a club, kissing. “This was about six years ago.”

“Bellamy’s known her for at least that long, so whatever their relationship was, he must have seen it unfold.” Monroe said sagely. Everyone else nodded along. 

“Must have seen what unfold, Monroe?” A gravelly voice said, and they all turned to see Bellamy standing there with his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised in question.

“Clarke’s suit against the Wallaces,” Shaw bluffed for her. 

Bellamy glanced at him before he tossed the folder he was holding onto the nearest desk. “Lexa said they were mugged by a stranger, but the security footage came through this morning, and the person who approaches them is definitely not a stranger. We can’t see his face but it’s clear that the women were comfortable with him, which you wouldn’t be if you were approached by a gun wielding stranger one night. Clarke thinks it was someone she knew and that’s why she lied.”

Roma pursed her lips, “She’s protecting the person who shot her fiancé?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I think she’s afraid of him.”

“Do you want one of us running point on this?” Anya asked.

Bellamy sighed, “No. I’ve got it. You should all stay on the cases I’ve already assigned you, but if I need help, I’ll reach out. If any of you need me, I’ll be in my office.”

“Wait, uh,” Monroe hesitated when he held the door, “what _was_ it like? When Clarke went up against the Wallaces?”

He looked at them for a long moment. “Hard. It was really, _really_ hard. For all of us, but especially for Clarke. I know that’s a big part of the reason you all applied to work here, but… the papers left out a lot. They made it sound like Clarke just nailed Cage to the wall in an afternoon. It was… it was months of work, and stress and she kept putting herself in his sights just to stop him hurting anyone else. You’ve gotta understand, Clarke was a lot closer to that case that anyone reported, and it put a lot of strain on her. That’s why I get so frustrated when she accepts new clients without telling me.”

“So, if it was so hard for her, why’d she accept Dante Wallace as a client?” McCreary asked.

“Because it was that or let Cage Wallace get out on parole.” He said. “Dante was the only person who knew all of his son’s dirty laundry, and Clarke would have done anything to keep Cage in jail. And Dante doesn’t want anything in return – he owned up to his crimes and he’s made peace with serving his time. All he wanted from Clarke was someone to talk to. Apparently it gets lonely in jail.” 

“But if–”

“–look, I’m really glad you’re all taking an interest,” he said tiredly, “and I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but just… not today, okay?”

They all nodded meekly and got back to work, and Shaw hunkered down with his army-vet case, combing through footage from the bar until his hand hurt from clicking through.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
The light through the windows was turning gold when everyone finally started heading home. Roma and Monroe offered Gaia a lift – apparently they all lived in the same part of town, and Monroe was trying to start a carpool – and Macallan and Riley loudly promised Jasper that they would bring in their favourite albums so he could judge them. Dax and McCreary slunk away in the direction of the carpark down the street with Kara Cooper in tow, and Anya was in deep conversation with Clarke as they packed up the lunchroom. 

Shaw, however, was still hunched over the computer, looking at the vet’s old records. Bellamy stuck his head out of his office and grabbed his attention. 

“Hey, uh, Raven just called,” he said. “She had to order a few of the parts in, so she doesn’t think it’ll be finished until early next week.”

Zeke groaned, rubbing his head with his hands in irritation. It wasn’t Raven’s fault, he knew that, he was just annoyed at himself for leaving it so long; for letting his poor bike get to the state it was in. “Okay, that’s fine, I’ll just work out the bus schedule.”

Bellamy fully emerged from his office and strode over, “Don’t be ridiculous, I can give you a ride again. You’re on my way anyway.”

He blinked in surprise. “You still live downtown?”

Bellamy hesitated, like he wasn’t sure what to say, eventually settling on, “It was my mother’s place before it was mine. I’m not getting rid of it anytime soon.”

“Your wife doesn’t mind?”

“My wife still has her own place uptown as well. Nicer view than my place, I suppose, but I still prefer mine.”

“Huh. So who’s place do you usually live at?”

“We bought a place together a couple of years ago. Smack bang in the middle of the two places, almost.”

Shaw paused. “So, if you live there now, how am I still on your way?”

Bellamy fiddled with his sleeve. “I have to swing by my place tonight to pick something up before I go meet Kane for dinner. Seriously, Shaw, I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Fine,” he grinned, grabbing his bag. 

“And I’m picking you up tomorrow morning as well, so don’t even try to look for a bus.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
True to his word, on Friday morning Bellamy parked in front of his apartment bright and early, leaning over to open the door for him before he even got to the curb. 

“Hope you’re excited to come to work today,” he said, indicating left, “because today instead of looking at boring footage from every angle for hours on end, you’re going to be checking his financial records.”

Shaw chuckled dryly. “Ah yes, the reason I got into investigating.”

Bellamy’s eyes darted across to him for a second before they slid back to the road. “What _was_ the reason you got into this? Not to be rude, but you seem way over-qualified; you were a pilot in the army, you served multiple terms, you got an online degree in computer science _while_ you were overseas, you’ve clearly been keeping that motorbike on the road with your own two hands… I mean… why _investigating?”_

“You’re making it sound like I’m some huge catch.”

Bellamy frowned, “You are. It’s part of the reason we hired you – someone with that background who wants to come work for us isn’t just anybody. You’re interesting, Shaw.”

He didn’t know what to make of that, so he just shrugged. They reached the familiar red-brick building before Bellamy could enquire any more.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Shaw had been going through receipts and bank statements for so long that when he closed his eyes he could only see numbers. If anyone else was around, he would make a joke about the Matrix, but he was alone at his desk, and also he didn’t know if anyone else would get the joke. _Jasper probably would,_ his brain supplied. 

“Well, that’s true,” he mumbled to himself. _(Great, now you’re talking to yourself. Good job Zeke, way to look like the most employable intern – act like an insane person.)_

He needed a change of scenery and something to eat, so he packed up all the pages he had sprawled over the work surface and trudged into the empty breakroom. Maybe he could think better with some food and coffee in his system. 

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately depending on how he looked at it, he had been there for barely five minutes when he was interrupted. 

He could hear them before he saw them. 

Clarke didn’t sound happy, “–honestly, Madi, you could have been kicked out, you’re so lucky you only got a warning.”

“I know,” Madi sounded more than a little repentant, “but you would have done the same.”

“Violence as a _last resort,_ Madi,” Clarke huffed.

“You stabbed a guy,” Madi pointed out, and Shaw gave up pretending that he wasn’t eavesdropping and just put the folder down, leaning forwards to hear better. 

“Cage Wallace was a murderer and I did it in self-defence, what’s your excuse?” Clarke clapped back. 

“Ben is a bully! He was picking on Charlotte; she’s tiny and he wouldn’t leave her alone.”

“So you decided to launch yourself at him, Mortal Kombat-style?”

The two of them finally entered the kitchen area and noticed Shaw, but they didn’t seem fazed by his presence. Madi was trailing petulantly behind Clarke, who looked more than a little weary, and he imagined that this probably wasn’t the first time Madi had been called out for bad behaviour. 

“You know it’s not fair,” Madi grumbled, “the teachers all know he’s a bully, it’s stupid that I was even punished. It’s not like I broke his nose, I just… bruised it a little.”

Shaw tried to hide his laughter behind his hand. 

Clarke sighed, pinching her nose, and turned to her daughter, “I know. Which is why I’m not punishing you. You’ll do your detentions, I’ll make sure of that, but you’re not grounded, and I’m not giving you any extra chores. _This time._ If you do it again, we’re gonna have words.”

Madi blinked up at her in surprise, “Really?” 

“Yes, really. You’re right, you were only trying to do the right thing, and that kid is an asshole,” she winced at herself. “Please don’t tell anyone I called a fourteen-year-old an asshole. That goes for you too Shaw!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he held up his hands in mock surrender, and she grinned at him.

“Madi, stay here and keep an eye on Shaw, I’ve got a client I’m supposed to call in – oh, shit, five minutes ago – and don’t distract the man, he’s working,” she said, dropping a kiss to her daughter’s head as she jogged around the corner and up the stairs. Madi turned to look at Shaw.

“Whatcha doing?” She asked, sitting down across from him.

“Uh, going through receipts,” he said.

“Oh, so you’re working with Bellamy?” Madi asked, seeming genuinely interested. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, so far,” he offered her a cracker, which she accepted warily. “You Clarke’s kid?”

“Adopted,” she said, matter-of-fact, like it was nothing, “Cage Wallace killed my parents.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said softly, and his heart broke for her.

“It’s okay,” Madi said, smiling up at him, “Clarke took care of me. She won my case against the Wallaces, and she made sure I didn’t get lost in the system. It could have been a lot worse.”

Shaw nodded pensively, before deciding to just jump right in, “Did you say that she stabbed Cage?” 

She frowned, picking at the wood of the table, “Yeah. When she was recording his confession, he tried to kill her, so she turned the knife around and got him instead. Easy-peasy.”

“That’s not exactly how it happened Madi,” Bellamy caught the last half of her explanation as he entered the room and sat down beside her. He was shaking his head, “Clarke nearly died – more than once – and then she had to fight tooth and nail to keep him in prison. She’s lucky, and it wasn’t easy, especially not for her.”

“Or you. She said you freaked out and disappeared, and that she thought you were gonna kill him,” Madi said, and he groaned, running a hand down his face. 

“She’s my best friend and he hurt her. I’m almost sorry I _didn’t_ kill him, even if I would've ended up in prison,” he hooked an arm around the kid’s shoulders, giving her a side-hug. “But you shouldn’t take your example from me, Clarke would kill me. Where _is_ your sensible parental figure, how come she’s not down here?”

“She’s talking to a client. I think she’s still mad at me, even though she says she’s not.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Bellamy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I punched a kid and the principal called Clarke. I have detentions for all of next week. She said I’m not in trouble because Ben’s a dick and he deserved it, but she still seems annoyed.” 

He winced, “Oof. You’ve definitely been spending too much time with me. You can’t just go around hitting kids, Madi, even if they’re bullies.” He ruffled her hair and she squirmed, giggling into his side. He smiled down at her, “I’m sure Clarke is just worried about you, kiddo. And I’m pretty sure she didn’t call a fourteen-year-old a dick.”

“True, she called him an asshole.”

Bellamy snorted, “That’s more like it.”

“Maybe she’s annoyed at you,” Madi suggested. “Because you’re the one who taught me to punch.”

“In that case, she should probably be more annoyed at Octavia,” Bellamy said, “but yeah, it’s not totally outside the realm of possibility. She seems to be getting annoyed at me a lot lately.”

Madi pinched his arm, “Maybe you should stop being a dick then.”

“Don’t be rude. Maybe you should also stop spending time with Uncle Murphy,” he groaned, “he’s the only one who teaches you language like that. I know it’s not me.”

“Not true, Raven taught me the word dick,” she said, making Shaw smile and prompting Bellamy to groan into his palm again.

“You need to stop coming to work after school,” he decided. His gaze flicked to Shaw, who had been watching the exchange with no small degree of amusement. Bellamy was surprisingly good with kids, and it showed, considering how comfortable Madi seemed with him. “How’s the work coming, Shaw?”

“Fine,” he said, glancing down at the folder of receipts, “I think I’ve worked out a basic timeline of events.”

“Great! So what you want to do now is break down whether or not that timeline looks good or bad for our client,” Bellamy started explaining, right as Clarke returned to the room. They shared a look, and Shaw felt out of place somehow, like they were speaking a language he wasn’t privy to.

“Did she tell you what she did?” Clarke asked.

“She said she punched a bully.”

“And the rest,” she stared pointedly at Madi, “she almost sent the kid to the emergency room.”

Bellamy frowned down at the child, but she sniffled and buried her face in his chest, and he hugged her back gently. Clarke turned her glare on Bellamy, who looked a little helpless. Shaw couldn’t blame him – it’s hard enough to discipline a kid when they’re your own, it must be practically impossible when they’re not. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt him that bad,” Madi said, muffled, “I just wanted him to leave Charlotte alone.”

“I know kiddo,” Bellamy stroked her back, still looking up at Clarke, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged at her but directed his words at Madi, “like Clarke said, she’s not mad at you, she just doesn’t want you getting in trouble.”

“You promise she’s not upset with me?” 

“She’s looking pretty upset with _me_ right now, so I think you’re out of the firing line,” he joked, and Clarke slumped, taking the empty seat next to Shaw. She looked tired, and Bellamy tilted his head at her, “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, I just…” She took a deep breath, steadying herself, “it’s been a long day.”

“Sorry, if I’d have known, I would have offered to pick up Madi for you, you didn’t have to drive to the other side of town.”

“It’s fine, it all worked out, I’m just tired, and Roan was just telling me about his mother’s latest set of rich clients, and the Lexa thing is getting more complicated, and I’m pretty sure two of our interns are hooking up in one of the empty rooms upstairs, and we’ve got lunch with my mother tomorrow, where I’m pretty sure she’s going to tell me she’s engaged, which is not something that I really want to spend time talking about, not that I’m not happy for her, I’m just sick of–”

“Whoa, Clarke, slow down,” Bellamy reached a hand across the table, holding hers, and she glanced at it warily. 

She straightened, tutting as she pulled her arm away, back to the detached woman Shaw recognised, “Look, can I talk to you for a minute, in my office?”

Bellamy nodded and Madi relinquished her grip on him so he could get up and follow her upstairs. 

Then it was only Madi and Shaw again. He bent down over the pages and Madi stole another cracker. “So,” she started, “which other intern would you want to work with? If they keep you, I mean.”  
  
  
  


* * *

  


* * *

  


* * *

  
  
  
The second the door closed behind them Clarke fell into his arms, breathing in his scent as she tucked her face into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight, nosing her hair softly. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she mumbled, “I’m just- I’m tired and I need you.”

“What do you need, Princess?” 

“Just this, this is all I’ve been thinking about since yesterday, I…” she gripped him a little tighter. “It’s just been one thing after another, and I’m sick of it all. On days like today I just want you to hold me, and this stupid bet makes that so hard. I’m not saying I want to put an end to it, but sometimes…”

“I know, babe, I know,” he kissed her shoulder, bringing an arm up to the back of her neck to gently massage the base of her skull.

“I’m proud of her,” Clarke admitted. “I know she did the wrong thing, but when I got that call from the principal, the first thought I had was that I was proud that she was standing up for the other kids. She’s so much like you, Bellamy.”

“And you,” he pulled back a little so he could see her face, “she gets that from you too, Princess.”

She looked tired, drained, and not for the first time that week, he worried that maybe the bet had more of an affect on her than she let on. It had always been him who seemed the most bothered by being unable to show his affection for her, but he knew she was simply better at hiding her feelings than him. She always had been. 

“You should probably stop touching me now,” she said, commanding, despite the clear want in her eyes, and she didn’t have to finish the sentence. Someone could come in at any second. But he just wanted another minute to show her how much he loved her, how amazing she was.

“I don’t see you shoving me away,” he teased, kissing her cheek.

“I couldn’t overpower you if I tried, Bellamy.”

He huffed, not willing to get into another argument where he pointed out that Clarke had defended herself against Cage Wallace twice, and she tried to appease him by telling him she knew Bellamy would never hurt her, while he repeatedly pointed out that that wasn’t _the point, Clarke, seriously-_

She could see his frustration and brushed her fingers over his forehead, flattening out the crease between his brows. He rolled his eyes, “I thought I came in here to make _you_ feel better.”

She sighed, pressing a far too brief kiss to his lips, and he missed her the second he pulled away, chasing it even as she stepped out of his arms. She turned to her desk and he placed his hands on her waist, the same as he had not five days earlier, the day the bet went into effect. He felt her still in anticipation, and he kissed the back of her shoulder.

“You’ve gotta get out of my office, Bellamy,” she said, voice strained, even as he ran his hands up her sides. She elbowed him, “I’m serious.”

He groaned and took a big step back, leaning against the wall. “You’re always serious.”

The retort was clear on her lips, but before she could say anything, someone knocked on the door. She gave him a look, as if to say, _“see?”_ and he made a face at her. 

“Come in.”  
  
  
  


* * *

  


* * *

  


* * *

  
  
  
  
Anya rushed into the kitchen, “Shaw have you seen Bellamy?”

“Uh, yeah he’s talking to Clarke, what’s up?”

“I think I’ve worked something out in this case, do you know where they are? It’s important.”

He surveyed her; she looked tired, and he wondered when the last time she ate was. He slid the crackers towards her and got to his feet, pouring her a cup of coffee. “You sit down, have some lunch, have some caffeine, I’ll go get him.”

She started to protest, but Madi sat up straight and shoved the crackers even closer to her. 

“So what’s the case about?” She asked, and Anya was sufficiently distracted for Shaw to duck out and make his way up the stairs. He was almost at the door when he heard them.

“You should probably stop touching me now,” that was Clarke, and she sounded stern. 

It was Bellamy next. “I don’t see you shoving me away.”

“I couldn’t overpower you if I tried, Bellamy.” The voices moved further away from the door and Shaw edged closer in an effort to hear what was going on. Some of it was too muffled, but then he heard Clarke again, sounding agitated. “You’ve gotta get out of my office, Bellamy. I’m serious.”

Bellamy groaned. “You’re always serious.”

Shaw knocked, hoping it would be enough to get Bellamy to stop doing… whatever he was doing, and leave Clarke alone. 

“Come in,” Clarke called, and he cracked the door open. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but uh, Anya says she’s found something in whatever she’s working on, she wants to run it by you.” He said to Bellamy. He pushed himself off the wall and out of the room. Shaw could hear him on the stairs. 

“Is there something else?” Clarke asked, looking at him with concern. 

He took a hesitant step forward. “It’s… are you okay?”

Her face broke into a smile and she waved a hand, “Yeah, Shaw, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, I’m perfectly equipped to handle myself, I’m just tired.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“What do you think of my kid?” She asked, moving to sit down behind her desk. “I would say today is a bad day to meet her, but that would be a lie – she’s always like this.”

“I like her,” he said, “she reminds me of the kids I used to hang around with when I was young; confident and headstrong, always running their mouths, but hiding hearts of gold.”

“Yeah, she’s a good kid.” She smiled again, smaller this time. “But be warned, Zeke, she _will_ get in your business, so if there’s anything you don’t want her to know, don’t let her know that. She can smell when people are hiding something.”

He laughed as he left, “I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Madi spent the entire afternoon pestering him. 

Even after he packed up his stuff from the breakroom and returned to his desk, she followed him, taking up residence on an armchair she seemed to have procured from thin air and asking him probing questions. 

When Anya finally left Bellamy’s office and sat down across from Shaw, he prayed that Madi would latch onto her, but he had no such luck. Anya just kept shooting back one-word answers until Madi got bored and returned to him. 

“You were a pilot?” Madi asked excitedly, when he accidentally let slip that he used to fly planes. 

“Yeah, in the army,” he said absentmindedly, trying to remember where he put the file he’d circled something on about an hour ago. 

“Did you go to war?” She asked.

He made a show of rummaging through the stacks of paper in front of him in the hopes that she’d move on to a different line of questioning. When she started to ask the question again, someone else’s voice stopped her. 

“Leave the man alone, Madi.”

His head jerked up to see Raven Reyes standing beside him, smirking. She leaned down conspiratorially, “How long has she been interrogating you?”

He shrugged, “Few hours.”

She laughed and he idly noted that he really loved the way it lit up her face. Not that he was paying attention to those things. At all. 

“I can’t believe you’ve put up with it for so long.”

“Hey!” Madi whined. 

“What can I say, I was trained to withstand interrogation. Although I do think we should employ her to interview suspects – I’m pretty sure she could crack them in no time,” he said, shooting a teasing look at Madi, who stuck out her tongue in response. He finally found the page he’d been looking for and put it on top of the pile. “Any news on my bike?”

Raven shook her head. “No, sorry. She’s going to be benched until Monday, when the new parts come in. I’ll try and get as much done as I can on Sunday so that she’s completely ready by the time they get there, but that’s the best I can do.”

“Why are you working on Sunday?”

“Because I’m busy tomorrow, remember – Girl’s Day?”

“No, I mean… why are you working over the weekend?”

She shrugged sheepishly. “Listen, I was a dick to you the other day. Your bike is clearly important to you, and it was a cheap-shot to try and open a conversation with that. I’m not going to sit around all weekend while she just sits in the shop, rusting more.”

“Well, I mean, that still felt like a diss on my bike,” he quipped, grinning, “but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet; there’s no guarantee I can actually get her working.”

He thought it over for a minute. “Do you think, uh… do you think I could come in? Y’know, help you out? I’d feel bad knowing that you were working on the weekend, especially when it’s my fault.”

She scoffed. “It wouldn’t be your fault. I actually really like working. But… okay.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment before Roma and McCreary arrived and flopped into their chairs. Raven moved over to Madi’s side. 

“Come on munchkin, I’m your babysitter for the next few hours and Clarke made me promise to get you dinner before dark.”

Madi bounded to her feet and started skipping towards the door. “We’re getting burgers, right?”

“Yeah, but if Clarke asks, I bought you vegetable casserole.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Clarke yelled from her office, and the building dissolved into laughter. 

Shaw started packing up his stuff just as Monroe got back, Macallan trailing after her with a wide grin plastered on his face. 

“Hey, so we were thinking, we should all get drinks.” He said cheerfully. “Riley, Roma and I have been talking about the fact that we’re all so busy we haven’t really had a chance to get to know one another yet, and two of us are going to be working together permanently after this. So Monroe suggested we all meet up somewhere, maybe tomorrow night?”

“I like the sound of that,” Gaia said as she waved goodbye to them, “someone text me the details.”

“Great, is everyone in?” Macallan asked, and one by one, they all voiced their assent. He beamed, if possible, even wider. “Perfect. There’s a bar downtown called Eden, I was thinking we could all meet there around seven.”

Bellamy emerged from his office and made eye contact with Shaw, holding up his keys in a silent question. He nodded. 

“Absolutely,” Shaw clapped Macallan on the shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it!!
> 
> Thoughts??
> 
> Your comments feed my crops and water my children.


	4. One Way Street With An Open End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the weekend, Shaw meets up with the other interns for drinks, and spends some time at the garage with Raven.
> 
> Bellamy doesn't like McCreary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, listen, i'm SORRYYYYYY. but in my defence, when I first stopped writing this, it was because things in my life were incredibly hectic and mostly bad, and I needed to focus on that, and then season 6 started and they decided to turn Shaw into a dick for absolutely no reason, and then kill him off, so I wasn't exactly excited to go back to this Shaw-centric story. 
> 
> BUT I am now far enough removed from the season that I can pretend that only s5 Shaw exists, and I can FINALLY get back into the zone to write this story. 
> 
> the title comes from Hit The Ground Running by Alice Merton, because apparently i'm naming the chapters after song lyrics, or maybe that'll change, i dunno, anyway, it's a great song <3 
> 
> so i guess i'm fully back on my bullshit and BOY have i missed my bullshit, so i hope you're all aboard the train with me, i love you guys <3

When Shaw arrived at Eden, it wasn’t quite what he remembered. It was a twenty minute walk from his street to the bar, so he used to drop in all the time and he expected it to be more than a little seedy, but it must have had a refurbishment in the last year or so, because it seemed to be relatively clean-cut. He ordered a drink on his way in, and sipped at it as he surveyed the place, looking for familiar faces. It didn’t take him long to find them.

Macallan waved him over to the table he was sitting at with Roma, Riley and Anya.

“Gaia and Cooper are at the bar,” he said, gesturing to a seat. “Monroe’s on her way, she’s running late, and Dax and McCreary should be here any minute.”

Shaw took another swig of his beer as he sat down.

“So, what’s your story, Zeke?” Roma asked, friendly.

“Same as anyone else’s, I’m sure.” He said vaguely. “How are you all enjoying the internship?”

“Hunger Games.” Riley corrected jokingly. They all laughed politely, the way people always do with their colleagues, smiling genially at each other. “I think it’s amazing. I’d love to work there.”

“God, me too,” Macallan gushed. “Clarke is so brilliant, and scary, and I want to be her when I grow up.”

Shaw snorted, more genuine this time. “Yeah, she’s cool. And Bellamy is interesting.”

“Oh speaking of,” Gaia said as she sat down, Cooper sliding in beside her, “what do you all think the deal is with those two?”

“Bellamy and Clarke?” Riley asked. At Gaia’s nod, he frowned, contemplative. “I don’t know. It’s strange, sometimes it seems like they really care about each other, and sometimes I wonder how they can even be in the same room.”

“Yeah, plus Bellamy is married, but he still flirts with Clarke? Which seems weird.” Macallan added.

Roma shook her head. “Not necessarily - some friendships are just like that. Me and my friends flirt with each other all the time and it never gets uncomfortable or anything, it’s just our dynamic.”

“And she snaps back if he frustrates her, so it’s not like she couldn’t stop him if she wanted to.”

Anya sighed heavily, leaning forward with a completely serious expression on her face. “Bellamy pushes Clarke’s buttons because he has a thing for her and she rises to the occasion because she has a thing for him.”

Everyone paused, taking the idea in.

Gaia was the first to speak. “No, c’mon, Bellamy’s married-”

“-why does that make a difference?” She raised an eyebrow.

Shaw thought about all the time he’d spent with Bellamy so far, and as much as he had his own misgivings about some of Bellamy’s behaviour with Clarke, judging by how much he seemed to love and respect his wife, and how happy he was when he talked about her, he just couldn’t see the man actually pursuing Clarke like that. It didn’t correlate with everything Shaw had seen. “Because he loves his wife.”

Their heads whipped around to face him.

“Oh have you met her?” Roma asked excitedly.

“No, but she called during lunch one day, and I’ve never seen anyone look so happy to answer the phone. Seriously, he’s… whipped.”

“Men who love their wives can still cheat on them.” Cooper said darkly.

“I don’t believe that.” Shaw frowned. “If you love someone, you love them, you don’t start looking elsewhere.”

“Your naivety is cute, but trust me, when you get to my age, you’ll agree with me.” She said, taking a swig of her beer.

With the mood successfully brought down, the next few minutes passed in awkward silence as everybody sipped their drinks and glanced nervously around at each other. It wasn’t until McCreary and Dax arrived that they all perked up again, chatting idly. Monroe turned up not ten minutes later, looking run off her feet and clutching a glass of wine like a lifeline as she collapsed into her seat.

Riley, ever the conversationalist, suddenly grinned and asked the whole table, “So. What do we think the bet is?”

“Oof, god knows,” Monroe shrugged.

“Well,” Roma tilted her head, “what do we know about it so far?”

They all shrugged.

Monroe cracked her knuckles and sat up a little straighter, wine sloshing as she did. “C’mon guys, at least five of us are training to be investigators, at the very least we should be able to figure out what a workplace _bet_ is about.”

“Good point.” Macallan hummed. “Well, we know that it’s something to do with our bosses.”

“And we know that you can _either_ bet on Bellamy or Clarke.” Gaia piped up.

Anya nodded. “And that we’re not supposed to know about it, which implies that it’s either something unprofessional, an in-joke, or something involving us.”

“Or all three.” Riley joked.

“I suggest we investigate - sneak around, look for clues, that sort of thing - and if that fails, we should interrogate someone, see if they crack.”

“Ooh, Anya, I knew I liked you.” He said, beaming. “But if we’re gonna interrogate someone, we should pick the right person. Who would crack the easiest?”

“Jasper.” Dax said, at the same time as Monroe said,

“Monty.”

“Nah.” Shaw waved a hand dismissively. “Jasper is _far_ too invested in the bet to give the game away, and Monty is too devoted to his friends. The best bet is to corner one of the previous interns, Harper or Miller or something, and see if they had to deal with the bet as well, and if they’ll spill the beans.”

“Smart.” Kara said, a note of surprise in her voice that he tried not to be offended by.

Anya swigged her drink. “Or, Shaw could flirt it out of Raven.”

He spluttered. “What? I’m- what- no I couldn’t.”

“Not with game like that, no.” She said pointedly.

“Raven doesn’t even like me.”

“That’s not what I saw yesterday afternoon. She deliberately sought you out, and rescued you from the kid’s incessant interrogation. And you were definitely flirting. It was awkward and dorky, sure, but it was flirting.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it and instead fell into a slightly sullen silence, picking at the label of his beer.

Macallan grinned. “So it’s agreed, we investigate, and we ask the ex-interns, and if all else fails, we get Shaw to seduce it out of Raven.”

The table erupted in laughter, and try as he might, Shaw couldn’t hate them for it, and even joined in a little. He actually really liked these people, except for-

“I was gonna ask who the most fuckable person in the office was, but we clearly have Shaw’s answer, so what do the rest of you think?” McCreary asked, slimily. Shaw wasn’t convinced the man could do anything in a way that _wasn’t_ completely slimy. In fact he was pretty sure that if anyone else had asked the question, it would have come across as playful banter, but those words in McCreary’s mouth just made his skin crawl.

“Uh,” Roma said awkwardly, “I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Me neither.” Gaia said, looking unimpressed.

“Clarke.” Dax shrugged. “She’s got good tits.”

“That’s our boss-” Monroe started, a little indignantly, but she was cut off.

“-she’s definitely a contender.” McCreary agreed. “And Harper’s fun to look at, but she’s definitely vanilla in bed.”

“Okay!” Macallan clapped his hands together loudly. “Who wants another round?”

They all raised their hands, and when he got up to order, Riley used the distraction to change the topic, asking about the kinds of cases they were all working on, and how the lawyers compared to the investigators.

The rest of the night passed without any major incident, and although McCreary made lewd comments about every woman that walked passed, they all just pretended they couldn’t hear him and pressed on with their conversations.

But the more time he spent with him, the more uneasy Shaw became.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Shaw turned up at the garage just after midday on Sunday, a bag of takeout in his hand.

Raven, who was sitting on the ground, tinkering with something, barely looked up. “Tell me you didn’t bring lunch.”

“I can tell you that if you want, but that’s not gonna make the food disappear.” He sat down beside her, putting the bag down between them.

She tried to conceal her smile. “Who told you I like Chinese?”

“Bellamy may have mentioned it in passing on Friday.”

“I’m sure he did.” She said, in the long-suffering tone of someone who’d known Bellamy Blake for a very long time. She pulled a spring roll from one of the containers and waved it at him. “But don’t buy me lunch just cause you feel guilty that I’m working on Sundays. Then that cancels out the reason I’m here in the first place, which is that I felt bad for being a dick.”

“Can’t help it I’m afraid.” He said, unpacking the rest of the food. At her quizzical look, he shrugged. “I’m catholic, guilt comes with the territory.”

“Religious, huh?” She asked sceptically.

“Not really, not anymore, but even if you’re not religious, the catholic never really goes away.”

“Ah, _take the boy out of the church,_ sort of thing?”

“Exactly.”

She put the piece of machinery she’d been messing with down and leaned against the wall, biting into her spring roll. He could feel her eyes on him as he cracked the lid off the noodles and shovelled it onto his fork.

“What?” He asked, fork halfway to his mouth.

“Nothing.” She said reassuringly. “I just… you’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“Well, Clarke bet I’d hate you, and Bellamy bet we’d be friends, so I was assuming some kind of version of me, but you’re not, you’re… different. You’re definitely smart, but you’re also so much nicer than me, and calmer.”

“You’re nice.”

“You put up with Madi’s interrogations.” She pointed out. “I’m not that nice.”

He almost choked on his food. “Alright. Well, if we’re revising first impressions, you’re funnier than I thought you’d be.”

“Wait til you spend some time with Murphy, he’s hilarious.” She grinned.

“I think I’d rather spend time with you.” He admitted.

She looked a little surprised, and _was she blushing?_

She recovered quickly. “Of course you would, I’m awesome.”

“Speaking of them betting on us, what’s the deal with the bet?” He asked, doing a terrible job of feigning casualness.

Raven snorted. “Oh _that’s_ why you bought lunch. You thought you could bribe me for information, well it’s not gonna happen. I’ve got $500 on this and I intend to win big this year.”

 _“500 dollars?!_   Shit. You sure you can't cut me in?"

"Positive."

"Damn." He quietened for a while, enjoying the food, before he asked, "Okay if you can't explain the bet, can you at least tell me what the deal is between Bellamy and Clarke?"

For some reason, she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You definitely do."

"I've never even heard of those people." She deadpanned, making him grin.

"Seriously, Raven."

"I'm serious. There's no deal. They are how they are."

"That's frustratingly cryptic, you know that?"

She just shrugged and finished off her chicken, reaching for a wrench. "So, you actually gonna help with this, or did you just come here to bribe me into giving up family secrets?"

He rolled his eyes. " I told you, the food wasn't bribery. I'm just Catholic."

She snorted a laugh and passed him a screwdriver.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He spent the entire afternoon at the garage, joking with Raven, delighting in making her laugh, and he really did regret his first impression of her, although she did admit that it was more on her than him.

She was kinda perfect.

And he was definitely developing a bit of a thing for her. Which meant Bellamy could probably win the bet with Clarke that both of them were totally going to pretend he didn't know about.

At some point, Sinclair had dropped by, and they'd been so immersed in their conversation that he had to actively take the wrench out of Raven's hand to gain her attention. Flustered, she had introduced the two of them, and Shaw had the strange feeling that he was meeting her father, which he kind of was.

He was pretty sure he'd made a good impression. Or at least better than his first with Raven.

On Monday morning, before work, he called Bellamy and told him not to pick him up, because he was walking to the garage. _Just to see if his bike was finished. Nothing else._

_Definitely not._

When she saw him standing there expectantly with a smile on his face, she looked a little sheepish.

"It's not done."

He opened his mouth, but before he could speak she rushed ahead.

"You distracted me yesterday, so I couldn't get it finished."

"I was helping."

"Yeah, and without your help, it would have been a lot slower, but it would have been faster if I wasn't distracted talking to you."

"So what you're saying is, if I hadn't come by yesterday, it _still_ wouldn't be finished, but you wouldn't be able to pin it on me?"

"...no."

"No?"

"Shut up." She grumbled. "It'll be done this afternoon. At the latest it'll be done tomorrow morning."

Shaw leaned against the wall. "I could help you with it if you like."

"I think I've had enough of your help." She quipped lightly. "But uh. If you want to hang out for a while when you come pick it up, I, uh, I wouldn't mind."

"I'll bring food."

"Don't you dare." She checked her watch. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Shit.

He pushed back off the wall, still trying to maintain his casual demeanour. "Yeah, but that's alright, Bellamy knew I was coming here."

"Still, without your bike, you're gonna be late. I can call you a cab?"

He pulled out his phone. "Nah, I got it."

But he made sure that he spent the entire twenty minutes waiting for the uber to arrive sitting with her while she worked, occasionally providing unhelpful input, and inwardly beaming the whole time.

_So, maybe he turned up for more than just his bike._

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Bellamy’s day started bad.

First, he ran into a roadblock on a case.

Then Shaw didn’t turn up on time.

And _then,_ on his way to ask Monty something, he happened past McCreary’s desk.

“...gonna ask to switch over to her side.” He was saying to Dax.

“Aw, you miss me?”

“More like I want to get up close and personal with your boss. She’s the most fuckable person in this office-”

“-I thought you said-”

“-Harper’s taken, I don’t go for women in relationships, they’re always frigid.”

“Fair enough. She’s going out of office today for a meeting, you should ask if you can tag along. I think Macallan’s going with her - the rest of us are on other cases.”

McCreary muttered some kind of response, but Bellamy didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping, so he strode past, sitting down next to Monty so that they could go over all the facts of a case and make sure they would hold up in court.

They’d been on it for a few minutes when Monty elbowed him. “Spill.”

“What?”

“Something’s bothering you, what’s going on?”

“I… What do you think of McCreary?”

Monty pondered it for a moment. “He’s really good at this job, so far.”

“As a person.” Bellamy clarified.

“He’s… abrasive. But maybe we’ll warm up to him - we didn’t all like Luna at first, but she slotted in perfectly after a while.”

Bellamy nodded along, unconvinced, and Monty elbowed him again. He glanced over, but he quickly realised that this time the elbow was to warn him to stop talking, as the man himself had sidled over.

“I’ve asked Clarke if I can stay closer to the legal side for the rest of the week, and I’m going to her meeting this afternoon, so you’ll probably have to shuffle my case to another intern, unless you want me to keep working on it.”

Bellamy bristled, but he smoothed his features out before he spoke. “Fine. But it’s your responsibility to ask the other interns which one of them wants to take your case.”

McCreary promised he would and slunk away again. Monty shook his head, “Okay, I see what you mean. But maybe he was born creepy. Some people can’t help looking that way, maybe he’s a good person at heart.”

Bellamy clapped him on the shoulder as he got to his feet. “You’re too pure Monty.”

“I’ll eat your heart in the marketplace.” He retorted idly.

“Don’t quote Shakespeare at me, Green, you know I’ll fall in love with you.”

Monty barked a laugh, clapping his hand over his mouth as the loud noise filled the air. “Shut up and go and worry about the woman you’re actually in love with somewhere else.”

He always could see right through him; he was a good friend, and a good person, but sometimes, when it was pointed out how transparent Bellamy was being, he didn't appreciate Monty's insight. Bellamy made a face at him, but he still ended up standing in front of Clarke’s door, hand raised to knock on it.

“Come in.”

He frowned as he entered, the question already on his lips.

“Monty texted me.” She said, not even looking up from the folder she was holding.

“Do you know where Shaw is, he’s late?”

She pressed her lips together, glancing up at him briefly before her gaze flicked back to the casefile. “What do you _actually_ want to talk to me about?”

He thought about lying, or holding out on her, but where Clarke was concerned, he really was terrible at that, so instead he just huffed and ran a hand over his face. “McCreary told me he’s going to this meeting with you and Macallan.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed noncommittally, flicking through something.

“Why?”

“He said he was interested in the legal side.” She said. He started pacing up and down, agitated, and she dragged her eyes from the folder to watch him with some level of concern. “Bellamy.”

He scratched his beard. “I’m concerned about it, that’s all. I overheard him talking to Dax earlier, making a comment about you that I don’t really appreciate.”

“What did he say?”

“You were the most fuckable person in the office.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“Not funny.” He grunted, and the smile fell off her face.

“Okay, what’s got you so,” she waved her hand at him vaguely, “this?”

“I don’t know, he just rubs me up the wrong way. The way he talks reminds me of the way Wallace talked, and I don’t trust him alone with you.”

She was eyeing him more intently now, pen hovering over her page. “He won’t be.”

“I don’t like it.” He said, sharp, and she stood up behind her desk, readying herself for an argument.

“Are you worried as my business partner, or are you worried as my husband?”

“Both.” He said decisively.

She placed her hands palms down on the desk, surveying him while she thought it over. He just kept pacing, occasionally throwing glances at her. He knew what her decision was before she said it. “I’m not going to dismiss him because he objectified me once, Bellamy, that doesn’t make him a bad person, it just makes him a person.”

He groaned. “You know as well as I do that objectifying women like that is a slippery slope.”

“You used to objectify me all the time!”

“Okay, yeah, but I never did anythi-” He faltered, bracing himself for the smug look he knew he was going to see when he turned around. Yep, there it was. “Oh that’s so unfair. You walked me into that.”

“You married a lawyer, babe, I’m pretty sure you walked _yourself_ into that.”

Despite his annoyance, he still felt a surge of affection for her in that moment, and he struggled to maintain his scowl. “Fine, do what you want. But be careful.”

“Roan and Diyoza will both be there, they could totally take him down.” She said absentmindedly, rummaging through her handbag for her car keys. "And Emori'd kill him before he so much as breathed the wrong way."

“You’d probably get there first,” he pointed out, barely refraining from dropping a kiss to her forehead as she strode past him and opened the door.

“Let me know if Shaw shows up.” She sang back to him.

“Will do.” He followed her out and leaning over the railing, watching her leave. He called down, making some of the interns lift their heads in interest. “Tell Roan I love him!”

“Keep your weird romance away from me and just send each other pictures of your dicks like normal people.” She retorted, but there was a smile on her face where there hadn’t been before, and he felt a little of the weight ease off his chest even after she’d gone, in the knowledge that he'd made her happy, despite their disagreement.

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Shaw jogged into the office and up the stairs, over an hour late, and immediately knocked on Bellamy’s office door, already profusely apologising before his boss even had a chance to say hello, let alone reprimand him.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I stopped by the garage to check on my bike and got caught up.” He said, wincing at how bad of an excuse it was. He wouldn’t blame Bellamy if this was enough to knock him out of the internship.

Bellamy, however, seemed distracted. “No, that’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He said, intermittently glaring down at his phone like it had offended him, and frowning towards the door.

Shaw hesitated. “Uh. Something wrong, sir?”

“Call me sir one more time, I swear to god,” he said, and the tone was lighter, at least, but he was clearly still burdened by something. He sighed heavily. “No, it’s just-”

He was cut off by his distinctive ringtone, and held up a finger apologetically.

“Hey Princess, how’s it going?” He paused a moment, listening. “Hey look, I know you said not to worry about it, but I-”

He grimaced.

“No, but I think you need to take this more seriously.” Whatever she replied was clearly not serious enough because his scowl only deepened. “Because I’m _worried_ and I don’t like it… I- fine, I won’t do anything about it. No, I’m not mad, it’s fine, I’m fine. Love you.”

When he hung up, it looked like he was about to launch the phone across the room, and Shaw made a snap decision, sitting down in the chair across from him and successfully dragging the man’s attention from his screen.

“So, you’re really mad.” He deadpanned.

Bellamy groaned, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m not, not exactly. Not at her, anyway, I’m just… it’s complicated.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

He eyed him warily. “Not really. It’s… I love my wife, but she’s infuriating sometimes.”

“Did she load the dishwasher wrong or something?” He joked, drawing a half-smile from his boss.

“Not exactly.” He rubbed his jaw absentmindedly. “She just has a knack for getting into… distressing situations.”

“Is that why you call her Princess? Cause she’s a damsel in distress?”

Bellamy snorted. “God, no. No, I started calling her Princess back when we first met, when I was an asshole. She was from uptown and I resented her and her presence in my friend’s lives. I guess I kind of assumed that we were all some kind of charity for her, and it pissed me off, so I used to make comments about it all the time, and called her Princess to annoy her. Once I realised how much of a dick I was being and started falling for her, it just stuck.”

“So not a damsel, then.” Shaw grinned.

“Nope. But frequently in distress.” He sighed. “And constantly reminding me that she can take care of herself. And I know that, but… she’s my _wife._ I _worry_. Sorry, you definitely don’t care about this - why did you say you were late?”

“Oh. Uh, I went to check on my bike and got distracted talking to Raven.”

“Did you now?” He looked like he was fighting not to smirk. “How’s the _bike?”_

He shrugged. “She said it’ll be fixed either tonight or tomorrow, hopefully.”

“Want me to break it for you on my way home?”

Shaw made a face. “Why would I want that?”

Bellamy didn’t answer, just shot him a knowing look, and Shaw refused to blush at it, just got to his feet and headed out of the office and down towards his desk.

 

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke showed Macallan and McCreary through the building and up to Diyoza’s office, where Roan and Emori were both sitting, clearly deep in conversation. The moment they entered, they broke it and turned to face her.

“Anyone won the bet yet?” Emori asked.

“Do you really think you wouldn’t find out from Jasper the second it happened?”

“Maybe he’s rigging it.” She suggested half-heartedly.

“He’s not.” Clarke grinned. “How’s life in the highrise?”

“Boring. Plus I see this,” she jerked her thumb at Roan, “way too often.”

He didn't even bother to look offended, just smirked at her. Diyoza cut through whatever he was about to say the second she strode in, all business. “Okay so a few of the cases you’re working on are fairly high profile, and according to Bellamy’s digging into one of them, it involves a Polis senator.”

“Wow, really, which one?” Emori asked, interested. She opened the file and started reading it, seemingly forgetting she was in a meeting of any kind. This was why Clarke loved having meetings with these three - Diyoza to keep them on track, Emori to remind her how excited she could still get about this job, and Roan to remind them of the stakes and help them kick ass.

“Do you ever read the dockets I put on your desk?” Diyoza asked, exasperated, but with the ghost of a smile hovering at the edge of her cheeks.

“I skim.” Emori said, eyes scanning down the page as she spoke. “I would read a lot more of them if they were all this interesting.”

“You’re a lost cause.” The complaint ruined by her clear amusement. She turned and shook the hands of the two men. “Macallan, and McCreary, yes? Good to meet you, let me explain some of the duties this office has.” The three of them moved over to the side and Clarke leaned against the desk, starting up a conversation with Roan while Emori kept reading.

“So, how’s your mother?”

“Still a life-sucking, iniquitous monster.”

“Ontari?”

“Insipid succubus.”

“Do you keep a thesaurus at hand for these or do they just come naturally?”

“Griffin you’ve known me for years, you know that everything comes naturally to me.” He winked and then leaned closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “How’s Blake taking it? And I don’t mean the pegging.”

“You’re disgusting.” She smacked his arm. “And he’s doing fine. Worrying too much, but that’s normal.”

“Well you better get your ass in gear, cause I’ve got serious cash on you.”

“Don’t you dare.” Emori’s head shot up. “Bellamy is winning this year and I’m going to take your money and use it to buy the _biggest-”_

“-what’s this bet about, anyway?” Macallan interrupted, having overheard Emori’s interjection.

“None of your business, squirt.” Roan growled, and the intern turned back to Diyoza, appropriate chastised.

“Squirt?” Clarke mouthed at him, mocking.

“He’s like, twelve.” He said, in an attempt to justify the word. Clarke just sniggered and leaned over Emori’s shoulder to skim the file with her. She was right, it really was juicy stuff, definitely too racy for a politician who was about to start campaigning for president. Especially if he got jail time - although he'd probably only get community service, because much as Clarke loved the justice system, it was definitely more than a little broken and unfairly weighted towards the wealthy. 

They spent the next twenty minutes running through it, trying to work out how best to approach the senator and whether it would be better for him to step down before or after the scandal broke, while Macallan and McCreary observed them, occasionally chipping in with ideas of their own. Roan had to leave so that his mother didn’t get suspicious - “but thank you for once again fueling my dreams of taking down my mother’s firm from the inside,” - and Emori started quizzing the two interns to give Diyoza and Clarke a chance to talk.

“So,” Diyoza started, eyebrows raised, “when were you going to tell me you took on Lexa?”

She winced. “Uh. Soon.”

“Mhmm.”

“Bellamy has already pointed out how much of a bad idea it was, so don’t bother.”

“I agree with him. Maybe we should have a partner’s meeting and actually talk it through. Y’know, because we’re all _equal_ partners.”

Clarke threw up her hands. “It’s one case.”

“It’s Lexa.” Diyoza countered. “When this meeting’s over, we’re having a meeting about this.”

She groaned, but if she was being honest with herself, she knew Diyoza was right. She also knew she was _not_ going to enjoy whatever meeting they had. She pulled her phone out. He answered after one ring.

_“Hey Princess, how’s it going?”_

“Diyoza’s coming back with me, we need to have a partner’s meeting. Just a head’s up.”

There was a short pause.

_“Hey look, I know you said not to worry about it, but I-”_

“-am worrying about it anyway?” She asked, sharing a look with Emori, who openly grinned.

_“No, but I think you need to take this more seriously.”_

“I think I can’t judge that for myself.” She glanced over at Macallan and McCreary, who were pretending they couldn’t hear her. She was so glad they couldn’t hear Bellamy’s end of the conversation, because she didn’t think McCreary would take too kindly to hearing his assumptions. “Why are you fixating on this? It’s fine.”

_“Because I’m **worried** and I don’t like it.”_

“So you’ve mentioned. You know I know what I’m doing, so what’s going on here? And don’t even think about starting shit, you know that’s not gonna help.”

_“I- fine, I won’t do anything about it.”_

“You’re mad at me.”

_“No, I’m not mad, it’s fine, I’m fine. Love you.”_

“That’s _my_ catchphrase, ass.” She quipped, hanging up.

Diyoza tilted her head in fascination. “Was that about Lexa?”

“No.” She slumped further down into her chair and suppressed a sigh. “Don’t worry, he’ll complain to you about it soon enough, I’m sure.”

“I hope he knows I’m not going to hold his hand through whatever it’s about.”

“Yeah, sympathetic is not a word I’d use to describe you, so I think he’s aware.” She checked her watch. “We should probably get back there if we want to get any work done today. You coming?”

Diyoza’s response was to turn and bark at the interns that if they weren’t out of her office in the next minute, she’d remove them herself.

“You could have just said yes.” Clarke pointed out.

“I’m coming too.” Emori said, shooing Macallan out the door. “I said I’d meet John for lunch.”

The five of them stood in the elevator together, and Clarke spent most of the minute on her phone, scrolling through unopened emails, but for the split second she glanced up, she caught McCreary blatantly staring at her ass. She wanted to stomp her feet petulantly, but she couldn’t so she just sighed to herself. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Bellamy, or that she hadn’t gotten a creepy vibe of McCreary already, but she’d been trying so hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. She knew Emori saw it too, because she stiffened and moved herself slightly in the way, blocking his view.

“What happened to your hand?” He asked bluntly, as they stepped off the elevator.

“Birth defect.” Emori responded, just as brusquely. She followed Clarke to her car. “Can I get a ride? Diyoza's stopping at the cafe on the way, and John's already got food for me.”

Clarke turned on the radio as she pulled out onto the road, singing quietly along to it. When she noticed Emori uncharacteristic silence, she reached across the center console and squeezed her arm. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.”

“But he could.” She looked out the window, clearly thinking back on exactly that situation from five years ago.

“And this time I have a whole office full of people who’d go to bat for me.”

It was almost lunchtime, and the traffic was getting thicker, slowing them down. “We would have done that last time too, but you kept trying to handle it on your own.”

“And now I know better.”

“Do you?” She tore her gaze away from the passing streets and Clarke could feel her eyes boring into her cheek.

“You sound like Bellamy.”

“Good.” Emori whispered.

Clarke turned down a side street to avoid the traffic lights and slid into her usual parking space. They unbuckled their seats and climbed from the car, and she walked around to sling an arm over Emori’s shoulder. “I’m fine. Really. And if I’m not, I promise, you’ll know.”

“We better.” She said, sounding dubious, but she leaned into her side anyway, and the two of them walked into the office together.

McCreary was already back at his desk, and Bellamy was sitting with Murphy and scowling over at him, which she was really going to have to talk to him about, but what was really interesting was that he wasn’t the only one.

Shaw was hunched over his desk, clearly mid-task, but his eyes kept flickering between his computer and McCreary, and there was something incredibly sharp in his expression.

She filed that information away for later.

Right now, she wanted to sit and eat lunch with her husband and her friends. Even if she couldn’t kiss him at work because of the bet, she could still spend time with him, despite it being agony not to be touching him all the time. For some reason, it was hitting her a lot harder this year than usual.

She slotted herself in between him and Murphy, while Emori draped herself ostentatiously in Murphy’s lap.

“Hey _wife.”_   He said loudly, and Bellamy went stock still and glared down at his plate. Murphy really was an asshole sometimes. She jabbed him in the ribs as recompense, and he hissed in surprise, quickly regaining his composure and making a face at her. “No need to get unsportsmanlike.”

“That’s your middle name, Murphy.”

“Actually, you’re thinking of ‘bastard’. ‘Unsportsmanlike’ was my father.”

That drew half a smile from Bellamy at least, but in no time at all, he was back to glaring at the back of McCreary's head again.

Well, this was going to be a fun week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talis Is Back On Her Bullshit Train, calling at Needless Angst Station, Awkward Flirting City, and Witty Banter Bay, ALL ABOARD!!! 
> 
> For reference:  
>  **PI INTERNS**  
>  Zeke Shaw  
> Roma  
> Zoe Monroe  
> Anya  
> McCreary
> 
>  **LEGAL INTERNS**  
>  Dax  
> Macallan  
> Riley  
> Gaia  
> Kara Cooper
> 
> Okay to make the betting pool clearer, and so I don't have to waste a bunch of expository dialogue on in during the chapters, I'm putting Jasper's lists down here at the end of every chapter. They will all switch bets, raise them, lower them, and change their reasoning. Here's the changes from days 2 & 3:
> 
> BETS:  
>  **Raven** \- $500 on Clarke, Bellamy's too whipped  
>  **Murphy** \- $100 on Blake. Trust me, he's winning this year. My reasoning isn't necessary for you to know.  
>  **Emori** \- $50 on Blake because Murphy definitely has information that no-one else does.  
>  **Jasper** \- $70 on Clarke - past performances don't lie, you guys!  
>  **Monty** \- $30 on Clarke, I've seen Bellamy try this before, it never works. (but also Murphy's confidence is concerning me)  
>  **Harper** \- $40 on Clarke, because I believe in her (sorry Bellamy!) (also why is Murphy taking it so seriously this year?)  
>  **Roan** \- $450 on Clarke, have you seen the way Blake looks at her?? Sorry buddy, you're not going to win. It's just not going to happen.  
>  **Octavia** \- $50 on Bellamy. I believe in you big brother.  
>  **Lincoln** \- $50 on Clarke. We love you Bellamy, but we'd rather not lose our money.  
>  **Luna** \- $20 on Clarke, she's a stoic badass.  
>  **Miller** \- $30 on Bellamy. He can do this. He's also my main boss and could make my life hell if I vote for Clarke. Love you buddy, hope Clarke doesn't wipe the floor with you too badly this year.  
>  **Kane** \- $150 on Bellamy. I've got a good feeling about it this year.  
>  **Diyoza** \- $100 and as per usual, my money's on Clarke. Bellamy is a whipped son of a bitch with a serious case of Heart Eyes. I'm pretty sure it's terminal. And disgusting. 
> 
> **Clarke** \- $1000 on myself.  
>  **Bellamy** \- $1000 on Clarke. (hey, I may as well hedge my bets, right?)
> 
> NEXT UP!: bellamy and clarke get tenser; unable to talk without alerting the interns. And shaw gets suspicious of mcreary and tries to report it to bellamy. Also Murphy stirs the pot, because of COURSE he does.


End file.
